AN  WINK 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT 


Mr 


&  Mrs .   Jo   Swelling 


WORKS  BY  PERCY  MACKAYE 


PLAYS 

THE  CANTERBURY  PILGRIMS.    A  Comedy. 

JEANNE  D'ARC.    A  Tragedy. 

SAPPHO  AND  PHAON.  A  Tragedy. 

FENRIS,  THE  WOLF.    A  Tragedy. 

A  GARLAND  TO  SYLVIA.    A  Dramatic  Reverie. 

THE  SCARECROW.    A  Tragedy  of  the  Ludicrous. 

YANKEE  FANTASIES.     Five  One-Act  Plays. 

MATER.    An  American  Study  in  Comedy. 

ANTI-MATRIMONY.     A  Satirical  Comedy. 

TO-MORROW.    A  Play  in  Three  Acts. 

A  THOUSAND  YEARS  AGO.    A  Romance  of  the  Orient. 

WASHINGTON.    A  Ballad  Play. 

COMMUNITY  DRAMAS 

CALIBAN.     A  Community  Masque. 

SAINT  Louis.     A  Civic  Masque. 

SANCTUARY.    A  Bird  Masque. 

THE  NEW  CITIZENSHIP.    A  Civic  Ritual. 

THE  EVERGREEN  TREE.    A  Christmas  Masque. 

THE  ROLL  CALL.    A  Masque  of  the  Red  Cross. 

THE  WILL  OF  SONG  (with  Harry  Barnhart). 

OPERAS 

SINBAD,  THE  SAILOR.    A  Fantasy. 
THE  IMMIGRANTS.     A  Tragedy. 
THE  CANTERBURY  PILGRIMS.    A  Comedy. 
RIP  VAN  WINKLE.     A  Legend. 

POEMS 

THE  SISTINE  EVE,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

URIEL,  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

LINCOLN.     A  Centenary  Ode. 

THE  PRESENT  HOUR.     Poems  of  War  and  Peace. 

POEMS  AND  PLAYS.    In  Two  Volumes. 

ESSAYS 

THE  PLAYHOUSE  AND  THE  PLAY. 

THE  Civic  THEATRE. 

A  SUBSTITUTE  FOR  WAR. 

COMMUNITY  DRAMA.    An  Interpretation. 

ALSO  (As  Editor) 

THE  CANTERBURY  TALES.     A  Modern  Rendering  into  Prose. 
THE  MODERN  READER'S  CHAUCER  (with  Professor  J.S.P.Tatlock). 


MISS  EVELYN  HERBERT 
AS  PETERKEE 


Rip  Van  Winkk 

FOLK-OPERA  IN   THREE  ACTS 

by 
PERCY  MACKAYE 

For  which  the  Music  has  been  Composed 

by 
REGINALD  DEKOVEN 


NEW  YORK 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF 

MCMXIX 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  by  PERCY  MACKAYE 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED, 

INCLUDING  TRANSLATION  INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES, 
INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


ALL  PERFORMANCES  FORBIDDEN 


NOTE:     The  Music  of  this  Opera  by  Reginald  DeKoven  is  published, 
together  with  the  words,  by  G.  Schirmer,  New  York. 

No  Public  Reading  of  this  text  may  be  given  without  permission  first 
obtained  from  the  Author,  27  West  44th  St.,  New  York  City. 


PREFACE 

In  the  making  of  this  opera,  for  the  first  time  an  Ameri- 
can dramatist  and  an  American  composer  have  been  di- 
rectly commissioned  by  producers  of  opera  to  write  and 
compose  a  work  for  production  on  the  operatic  stage. 

Early  in  the  present  year,  Mr.  Cleofonte  Campanini 
of  the  Chicago  Opera  Association  made  definite  arrange- 
ments with  Mr.  Reginald  de  Koven  and  myself  in  regard  to 
"Rip  Van  Winkle"  and  its  production  in  Chicago,  New 
York  and  elsewhere  during  the  season  of  1919-20.  During 
the  next  few  months  I  wrote  the  text  of  the  opera  here  pub- 
lished, for  which  Mr.  de  Koven  had  completed  composing 
the  music  by  the  first  part  of  July.  The  choice  and  treat- 
ment of  subject  were  my  own,  and  entire  freedom,  of 
course,  was  given  for  the  execution  of  the  text  and  music. 

The  legend  of  Rip  Van  Winkle,  under  various  names 
and  guises,  is  one  very  old  and  well-nigh  universal,  having 
its  modified  versions  as  widely  scattered  as  Japan  and 
central  Africa.  One  version,  familiar  to  the  Hartz  Moun- 
tains in  Europe,  the  story-telling  genius  of  Washington 
Irving  transplanted  to  our  own  Catskills,  interpenetrating 
it  with  characteristics  of  our  early  Dutch  settlers  and  legen- 
dary memories  of  the  adventurous  sea-captain  who  dis- 
covered the  Hudson  river.  This  tale  of  Washington 
Irving's  was  popularized  even  more  widely  by  the  acting 
genius  of  Joseph  Jefferson,  who  has  told  in  the  Preface  of 
the  published  play  "Rip  Van  Winkle"  how  the  early 
dramatization  of  the  story  by  himself  was  amplified  by  the 
dramatist  Dion  Boucicault  and  others  into  the  play  which 
he  acted  for  nearly  two  generations. 

In  devising  this  opera,  then,  I  have  felt  the  same  liberty 
as  my  predecessors  to  develop  the  ancient  legend  in  accor- 
dance with  the  nature  and  needs  of  the  new  work  in  hand, 
and  so  the  reader,  or  spectator,  who  may  compare  this 
work  with  the  story  of  Washington  Irving  or  the  play 
acted  by  Joseph  Jefferson,  will  discover  more  differences 
than  resemblances.  The  differences  have  developed  mainly 


861356 


Preface 

from  the  consideration  that  I  was  writing — not  a  story  or 
a  play,  but  an  opera;  and  this  constant  consideration  has 
resulted  in  the  two  main  contributions  of  mine  which 
modify  the  old  legend — the  creation  of  a  new  character, 
Peterkee,  and  the  introduction  of  a  new  element  in  the 
plot,  the  Magic  Flask. 

These,  however,  though  I  may  analyze  them  here  in  a 
preface  as  differences,  have  never  in  my  mind  been  con- 
sciously set  apart  (but,  rather,  have  directly  sprung)  from 
that  initial  wonder  of  feeling  which  the  images  of  Rip  and 
Hendrick  Hudson — and  the  echoes  of  summer  thunder  in 
the  mountains — have  never  ceased  to  stir  in  me  since  the 
early,  absolute  belief  of  my  childhood. 

PERCY  MACKAYE. 

Cornish,  N.  H.,  July,  1919. 


VI 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 


MEN 

Rip  Van  Winkle 
Hendrick  Hudson 
Dirck  Spuytenduyvil 
Nicholas  Vedder 
Derrick  Van  Bummel 
Hans  Van  Bummel  (Mute) 

WOMEN 

Peterkee  Vedder 
Katrina  Vedder 
Goose-Girl 

CHORUS 

Old  Dutchmen  of  the  Tavern 
Women  at  the  Fountain 
Children  of  the  Village 
Crew  of  the  Half  Moon 
Fairies  of  the  Mountain 


PLACE  AND  TIME 

In  the  Catskill  Mountains,  about  the  middle  of  the  Eighteenth  [Century. 
ACT  I.      A  Village  Green,  with  Inn  and  Church  (late  afternoon). 

ACT  II.    Scene  First:  Rip  Van  Winkle's  Hut  (interior),  on  the  border  of 

the  Village  and  Forest  (early  evening). 

Scene  Second:  A  Forest  Path  up  the  Mountain  (moonlight). 
Scene  Third:  The  Peak  of  the  Mountain  (midnight  and  after). 

ACT  III.  (Twenty  years  later). 

Scene  First:  The  Peak  of  the  Mountain  (dawn). 
Scene  Second:  Rip's  Hut  (exterior)  in  ruins  (toward  sundown). 
Scene  Third:  The  Village  Green  of  Act  I,  with  alterations  (sundown), 
vii 


ACT  FIRST 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

FOLK-OPERA 

ACT   I 

It  is  a  sleepy,  old-timey  scene  on  which  the  curtain 
rises:  a  small  village  green,  shaded  by  an  immense  elm  {at 
left  centre],  whose  great  branches  shelter,  on  the  left,  a  rustic 
Inn,  and,  on  the  right,  a  quaint  Church  with  porch,  reveal- 
ing between  the  two  buildings  vistas  of  cloud-flecked  moun- 
tains, that  tower  away  beyond  a  blue-green  river-valley. 

On  wooden  benches,  on  either  side  of  the  Inn  doorway, 
old  Men  sit  basking,  clad  in  Dutch  garb  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century.  Lazily  from  their  long  pipes  they  puff  little  clouds 
of  tobacco  smoke,  that  curls  slowly  upward  in  the  quiet  sun- 
shine. 

THE  OLD  MEN 
(In  chorus) 

Puff  of  cloud  from  pipe  of  clay, 

Drone  of  song  from  drowsy  fountain — 

All  we  dream  on  fades  away 

Far  upon  the  summer  mountain. 

Glimpsed  near  the  Church,  Women  of  the  village  are 
seen  washing  at  a  fountain  and  spreading  gay  patches  of 
washing  to  dry  on  a  green  hedge,  where  a  flock  of  white  geese 
goes  waddling  by.  Switching  the  flock  with  a  long  willow 
branch,  a  Goose-Girl  passes,  singing.  To  her  song,  the 
Men — removing  momentarily  the  pipes  from  their  mouths 
— drone  a  monosyllabic  chorus,  joined  from  the  hedge  and 
fountain  by  the  soft  prattle  and  laughter  of  the  Women, 
while  from  beyond  the  Inn  comes  the  low  tinkle  of  cowbells 
and  the  far  call  of  a  Cowherd. 

1 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 
(Sings,  with  sweet  clear  voice) 

Kaaterskill,  Kaaterskill, 
Cloud  on  the  Kaaterskill! 
Tell  me  the  morrow's  weather: 
Green  and  gray 
Is  my  willow  tree; 
And  my  lame  goose  she 
Went  home  the  wrong  way 
With  a  ruffled  feather. 

THE  MEN 

(Blowing  tobacco  smoke) 

Poof! 

THE  WOMEN 
(Scrubbing  at  the  fountain) 

Ribbullee!  Ribbullee! 

A  COWHERD 
(Calling  outside,  far  off} 

Co',  bos!  Co'!  Co-o! 
THE  GOOSE-GIRL 

Kaaterskill,  Kaaterskill, 

Cloud  on  the  Kaaterskill! 

Will  it  be  fair,  or  lower? 

Silver  rings 

On  my  pond  I  see; 

And  my  gander  he 

Shook  both  his  white  wings 

Like  a  sunshine  shower. 

THE  MEN 
Poof! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  3 

THE  WOMEN 
Ribbullee!  Ribbullee! 

THE  COWHERD 
Co',  bos!  Co'!  Co-o! 

(As  the  Goose-Girl  passes  off  with  her  geese,  the  Women, 
in  gay  pantomime,  sing  on  at  the  fountain.) 

THE  WOMEN 

Ribbullee!  Ribbullee! 

Rub  and  wring! 
Eva  and  Adam 

Wore  no  thing; 
But  master  and  madam 

King  and  queen, 

And  every  Adam's  son  and  daughter — 
God  clad  all,  and  gave  them  water 

To  keep  them  clothed  clean. 

THE  MEN 
Poof!    —    Poof! 

THE  WOMEN 
Ribbullee!  Ribbullee!  Wring! 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL'S  VOICE 
(Sounding  softly  farther  off,  outside} 

Kaaterskill!  Kaaterskill! 
Cloud  on  the  Kaaterskill — 

(Abruptly,  a  scream  and  banging  clatter  burst  from  the 
Inn,  and  a  pewter  plate — hurled  from  inside — comes  skim- 
ming out,  and  jails  rolling  on  the  ground. 

The  Women  stop  washing,  and  the  Men  take  their  pipes 
from  their  mouths.) 


4  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

A  SHRILL  VOICE 
(Screams  from  inside) 
No!    No — no! 

A  DEEP  VOICE 
Yes!    Yes — yes! 

THE  MEN 
(With  droll  shrug  of  their  shoulders) 

Poof! 

THE  SHRILL  VOICE 
Van  Bummel?    No;  —  never,  never,  never! 

(Followed  by  the  screaming  voice ',  a  Fat  Young  Man  comes 
stumbling  forth  from  the  Inn,  trying  to  keep  a  sedate  poise, 
in  spite  of  a  fierce  shove  from  behind. 

He  is  a  foolish-faced  fellow  of  about  thirty ;  whose  general 
air  of  dullness  is  livened  only  by  the  dandified  fashion  of  his 
garb,  and  by  a  big  red-and-yellow  tulip,  which  he  holds  clutched 
in  both  his  plump  hands.} 

THE  FAT  YOUNG  MAN 
(Calls  back,  stuttering) 

Bu-  but,  Ka-  Ka-  Ka-  Ka-  Ka-trina! 

(A  buxom,  apple-cheeked  Young  Woman  appears  in  the 
doorway,  and  stands  mocking  him.) 

THE  YOUNG  WOMAN 
Boo-  Boo-,  Boo-  Boo-  Boo-  Boo-  Van  Bummel ! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  5 

THE  YOUNG  MAN 

Not  me-  me:     it  was  your  fa-  father. 
I  said  na-  na-  nothing. 

THE  YOUNG  WOMAN 

Just  so! 

You  said  all  you've  got  in  your  noddle — 
Na-  nothing! 

(Behind  her  appears  a  dour-eyed  Man  of  about  fifty, 
dressed  typically  as  a  Dutch  Landlord  of  an  Inn.  In  his 
hands  he  carries  various  legal  papers,  quill  and  ink  and  a  big 
book.} 

THE  MAN 

(Speaks  sternly} 

Katrina!  —  Now,  now! 
Your  manners!     Beg  Master  Jan's  pardon. 
No  daughter  of  Nicholas  Vedder 
Shall  rail  like  a  slut,  for  the  neighbors 
And  guests  of  my  Inn  to  be  hearing. 

KATRINA 
Bah! 

NICHOLAS 
"Bah!"  —  to  your  father? 

KATRINA 

Aye,  bah! 

Bah!  to  an  old  ram,  who  butts  me 
To  mate  with  that  silly  bah-sheep  there — 
Fat  for  the  market  and  woolly  for  shearing: 
Not  me,  sir! 
I've  catched  me  a  husband  that's  more  to  my  mind. 


6  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

NICHOLAS 
A  husband?    (He  laughs  grimly)    Aha-  ha! 

(Turning  to  the  Taverners  and  Women,  who  begin  to 
gather  round) 

You  hear  her? 

You  know  who  she's  talking  about? 
That  vagabond,  rattle-brain  rogue  of  the  village — 
Rip:  Rip  Van  Winkle! 

SOME  OF  THE  WOMEN 
(With  tittering  laughter) 

Ee-  hee! 
KATRINA 

Laugh  away — the  wrong  side  of  your  faces! 
He's  mine — Rip  is  mine:  the  happy-go-luckiest 
Handsomest  lad  in  the  valley  of  Hudson: 
Katrina  Vedder  and  Rip  Van  Winkle — 
'T  is  we  shall  be  wedded  to-morrow  at  sundown 
Yon,  in  the  church! 

NICHOLAS 
So  you're  certain! 

KATRINA 
What  else  would  I  be?     Look  there  in  your  hands: 

(As   Katrina   addresses   him,  Nicholas   lays   down  the 
articles,  one  by  one,  on  the  table.) 

There's  Bible  and  papers  and  goosequill  and  ink 

To  sign  up  the  settlement — dower  and  house, 

With  pigsty  and  cornbarn  and  acres,  and  yonder 

The  Justice  of  Peace  to  set  his  big  seal 

There  on  the  license,  and  now  is  the  hour, 

And  there  stands  the  table,  and  here  stands  Katrina — 


t- 

u 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  7 

NICHOLAS 
But  where  stands  the  Bridegroom? 

THE  ONLOOKERS 

(With  laughter} 

Ho-ho!     Where's  the  Bridegroom? 
Ha-ha!— Rip  Van  Winkle! 

KATRINA 
Oh,  Rip  will  be  here  in  a  minute.     He  promised. 

NICHOLAS 
(With  mocking  gesture,  to  the  Onlookers) 

He  promised! 

THE  ONLOOKERS 
Ho-ho! 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 

(Who  has  returned,  peeps  forth  with  teasing  smile  from 
beside  Jan  Van  Bummel) 

Jan,  maybe  Rip  tarried  to  pick  her  a  posy. 

JAN 

(Stepping  forward,  offers  Katrina  his  huge  flower  with 
both  hands) 

Here's  mine,  Ka-  Katrina! 

Wo-  won't  you  ta-  ta-  take  wo-  one  of  my  tulips  ? 

KATRINA 
(Flinging  the  tulip  at  the  Goose-Girl) 

*T  is  her,  there,  can  ta-  take  the  both  of  your  two  lips! 
Her  own  are  both  waiting. 


8  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 
(Pouting,  mischievously) 

Aye,  Jan,  come  and  try! 
(Katrina  turns  away,  sulking,  and  sits  on  the  door-step.} 

JAN 

(Ruefully,  picking  up  the  flower) 

My  nice  tu-  tu-  tulip  is  bro-  broke  in  two. 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 
And  so  is  my  heart,  Jan. 

JAN 

Go  'way!    You  are  only 
A  goo-  goo-  goo-  goose-girl. 

NICHOLAS 

Now,  neighbors,  I  ask  you : 
What  kind  of  a  man  is  this  Rip  for  a  husband 
Who  don't  even  turn  up  to  settle  his  wedding? 
A  rascal — with  nothing  but  holes  in  his  pockets 
And  wool  in  his  wits,  to  earn  him  a  living — 
My  daughter  has  chose,  when  she  might  have  a  young 

man 
Of  good  sense  and  property. 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 

(With  a  curtsy  to  the  Fat  Young  Man) 
Like  Master  Jan! 

NICHOLAS 

Katrina,  you  needn't  sit  there  in  your  sulks. 
You've  cooked  your  own  cake;  stand  up  now  and  eat  it 
Before  all  the  neighbors.     Announce  how  the  rogue 
You're  ready  to  wed — has  forgotten  to  wed  you. 
Stand  up,  and  be  jilted! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  9 

KATRINA 
(Shrilly,  not  budging  from  her  seat} 

Shut  up,  and  be  hanged — 
The  pack  of  you,  all!     You  are  tattle-tale-tits 
And  your  tongues  shall  be  eat  by  the  black-birds. 

A  DEEP  BASS  VOICE 

(Is  heard  calling  from  outside) 

Ho,  there! 

NICHOLAS 
What's  that? 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 

(Looking  off,  beyond  the  church) 

Why,  't  is  Derrick  Van  Bummel,  the  Schoolmaster. 

VILLAGERS 
And  Peterkee  Vedder!     There's  Peterkee  with  him. 

(Round  the  porch  of  the  Church  comes  bustling,  in  conse- 
quential wrath,  the  portly  form  of  Derrick  Van  Bummel. 

By  his  side,  at  arm's  length,  he  holds  by  the  ear  a  slim, 
childish  figure,  in  ragged  Dutch  trousers,  carrying  a  fishpole 
with  line  and  bobbin.) 

DERRICK  VAN  BUMMEL 
(With  loud  pomposity) 

What,  ho!     Room,  there:     make  way! 

\ 

NICHOLAS 

What  can  this  be? 


10  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

DERRICK 

(Thunders) 

Insubordination !     Insubordination ! 

This  one  is  guilty  of  infraction;  yea, 

Defection  and  transgression. — Room!     Draw  back! 

Leave  her  alone,  and  excommunicated! 

(At  Derrick's  sweeping  gesture,  the  onlookers  all  draw 
back  in  a  wide  circle,  in  the  centre  of  which  Peterkee 
stands,  dreamily  oblivious  of  their  staring  and  the  thundrous 
voice  of  the  Schoolmaster. 

In  one  hand  she  clutches  the  fishpole;  with  the  other  she 
rubs — half  consciously — her  small,  reddened  ear,  which  Der- 
rick has  just  released.} 

NICHOLAS 
(Taking  a  step  into  the  empty  circle  space,  speaks  sternly) 

Peterkee — is  this  you? 

PETERKEE 
(Spreading  her  ragged  galligaskins,  bobs  a  curtsy) 

Yes,  father. 


Where  have  you  been? 

PETERKEE 
Fishin'. 

NICHOLAS 

What  did  you  catch? 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  11 

PETERKEE 


Nothin'. 

NICHOLAS 

What  were  you  fishing  for? 

x 

PETERKEE 

A  mermaid. 

NICHOLAS 
What? 

PETERKEE 
A  fresh-water  one. 

(Showing  the  end  of  the  fishline,  to  which  a  small  morsel 
is  tied.) 

See,  here's  the  plum-cake. 
She  lives  on  plum-cake. 

NICHOLAS 
Ah!    Who  told  you  so? 

PETERKEE 

Rip  told  me  all  about  her  in  a  song. 
Hark,  and  I'll  tell  you. 

NICHOLAS 
Rip!    Ha,  Rip  Van  Winkle! 


12  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 

Long  ago,  by  a  mountain  brook, 

All  under  the  witch-hazel  cover, 
A  maiden  bride  sat  down  forsook, 

Lamenting  on  her  lover: 
"My  false  truelove  he's  gone  for  ay 
And  took  our  wedding  plum-cake  all  away!" 

So  she  laid  off  her  bridal  dress, 
All  under  the  witch-hazel  flowers, 

And  drowned  her  lonely  nakedness 
In  the  wild  brook's  foaming  bowers, 

Where  little  fishes,  clad  in  mail, 

Clothed  her  in  silver  fins  and  golden  tail. 

There,  when  summer  has  warmed  the  stream, 
With  rod  of  the  witch-hazel  sapling 

A  fisherboy  still  seeks  her  gleam 
Among  the  brook-trout  dappling, 

And  baits  some  plum-cake  on  his  string 

In  token  of  her  truelove's  sorrowing. 


DERRICK 

All  folderol!    This  Rip  Van  Winkle  fills 

Her  noddle  with  such  nonsense.     Aye,  this  morning 

He  stole  my  school  and  made  'em  all  play  hookie! 


NICHOLAS 
My  Peterkee? — 

DERRICK 
Your  Peterkee! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  13 

PETERKEE 

We  know 

A  secret  place  to  fish  in — Rip  and  I, 
And  I  was  hidin'  there,  to  catch  the  mermaid, 
While  Rip  he  taught  the  others  to  fly  kites. 

NICHOLAS 
(Pointing  severely) 

And  those — those  galligaskins! 

PETERKEE 

Oh,  Rip  gave  'em 

To  me.     I  always  wear  'em  on  our  rambles. 
Rip  likes  me  best  when  I  'm  a  boy,  and  so 
Of  course  I  wear  'em. 

KATRINA 
(Fiercely) 

Jackaninny-Jill ! 
I'll  teach  'ee  to  play  torn-boy! 

(Katrina  seizes  Peter kee  and  slaps  her. 
As  she  does  so,  from  outside  the  wild,  merry  voice  of  a 
Man  is  heard  calling.) 

THE  VOICE 

Ho,  halloa! 
Children,  come!     Our  bird  is  flying. 

PETERKEE 
(With  quick,  joyous  cry) 

Ah,  there's  Rip!     Our  fairy's  flying! 

(Escaping  from  Katrina' s  grasp,  she  darts  away  and 
dashes  off  the  scene,  left.) 


14  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

KATRINA 
(Screams  after  her,  exasperated) 

The  devil  fetch  her! 

DERRICK 

(To  some  Pillagers) 
Bring  her  back! 

NICHOLAS 

Nay,  friends! 

Take  notice,  all,  and  hold  your  peace!  Behold, 
Katrina,  now  where  Rip  your  bridegroom  comes 
To  keep  his  promise,  in  his  bridal  clothes. 

(Now,  as  the  Villagers  draw  back  and  Katrina  turns  away 
toward  the  Inn,  a  rushing  crowd  of  Children  enter  at  the 
back,  left,  surrounding  in  their  midst  the  ragged  figure  of  Rip 
Van  Winkle,  at  whose  side  Peterkee  is  holding  fast  with  him 
to  a  taut  string  that  gleams  upward,  out  of  vision,  above  them. 

All  are  gazing  skyward — their  faces  eager  and  laughing. 

Rip  and  Peterkee  sing  as  they  come,  the  Children 
joining  them  in  the  final  chorus.} 

RIP 

There!    Up  there — up  there! 
Who  is  yonder  in  the  air? 

Now  he's  golden,  now  he's  white; 
Now  he  dodges,  while  we  stare, 

Out  of  sound  and  sight, 
Calling  far  beyond  our  view: 
"Follow  me  where  dreams  are  true!" 

PETERKEE 
Kite!     Kite!     Fairy  swallow! 

Kite  in  the  cloudy  blue! 
Over  hill  and  brook  and  hollow 
We  will  follow,  follow, 

Follow  you! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  15 

RIP 

Ho,  halloa — halloa! 

Do  not  leave  us  here  below! 

Take  us  on  your  fairy  flight; 
Take  us  where  the  lightnings  go 

Back  of  noon  and  night, 
Where — to  mix  his  mountain  brew — 
Hendrick  Hudson  calls  his  crew. 

CHORUS 

Kite!     Kite!     Fairy  swallow! 

Kite  in  the  cloudy  blue! 
Over  hill  and  brook  and  hollow 
We  will  follow,  follow, 

Follow  you ! 

RIP 

There!    Up  there — up  there! — 

KATRINA 
(Breaking  in,  shrilly) 

So,  there — up  there — you  keep  your  tryst. 
Fly  off  and  welcome,  Rip  Van  Winkle! 

RIP 

(  Turns  with  startled  stare,  loosing  the  string  in  his  hand) 

Katrina? 

KATRINA 

Aye,  Katrina! 

PETERKEE 

(Poignantly,  as  the  gleaming  cord  pulls  from  her  grasp 
and  disappears) 

Oh, 
Oh,  oh!    The  string!    He's  gone — he's  lost! 


16  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

THE  CHILDREN 
(Pointing  upward) 

Our  kite  is  lost — our  kite  is  lost! 

RIP 

(Shading  his  eyes,  calls  upward) 

Ho,  there!     You  shiny  fellow,  there! 
Why  should  us  folk  here  go  on  foot 
And  you  go  flying? 

KATRINA 

Sure,  he'll  answer! 

Gab  to  the  wind:  he  loves  your  gabble! 
Head  in  the  clouds  and  heel  in  the  gutter, 
Tie  your  heart  to  the  tail  of  a  kite-string 
And  marry  a  magpie — but  not  me! 

RIP 

(Gathering  his  wits,  slowly) 

Is  it  you — Katy? 

KATRINA 

Oh,  ye  know  me! — 

You  lollypop,  gad-about,  rattling  bean-pod !- 
And  so  you're  come  now,  nick  on  the  hour, 
To  keep  your  promise! 

RIP 
Keep  my  promise? 

KATRINA 

Lo,  the  wedding  suit  you're  wearing 
For  to  keep  your  vowed  engagement! 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  17 

RIP 

My  engagement? 

KATRINA 

(With  fierce  outburst) 

Aye,  your  broken 
Troth  and  tryst  and  plighted  word: 
Take  their  broken  bits,  and  give  them 
To  your  tom-boy! 

PETERKEE 
Sister! — sister! 

KATRINA 

Go  and  fly  your  kite  together! 
Run  and  fetch  your  fairy  swallow! 
Go! — I  hate  you,  both — I  hate  you! 

(Turning,  she  rushes  into  the  tavern.) 

NICHOLAS 

(Seizing  Peterkee,  takes  from  her  the  fishing-rod  and  leads 
her  sternly  off  after  Katrind) 

Come  with  me.     This  hazel  sapling 
You'll  remember  when  I  whip  you. 

DERRICK 

(To  the  Children,  in  pompous  anger) 

As  for  you,  ye  varlet  scholars — 

THE  CHILDREN 
(Mockingly) 

Boo!    Boo!    Boo! 


18  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

DERRICK 

(Shaking  his  fists,  strides  off  into  the  Inn) 
Insubordination !     Insubordination ! 

JAN 

(Hurrying  after  him) 
Pa-  Pa-  Papa !     Take  me  with  you ! 

THE  CHILDREN 
(In  jeering  laughter) 

Ha,  ha,  ha! 

RIP 

(Who  has  sunk  down  in  a  seat  under  the  tree,  stares  after 
them,  utterly  bewildered) 

My  engagement,  and  my  promise — 
What  the  devil  did  she  mean? 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 

Sure,  your  wedding  settlement. — 
Have  you  clean  lost  track  o'  time,  Rip? 

RIP 

Lord — my  wedding!     Well,  I  never 
Could  keep  track  o'  time. — I'm  sorry 
For  poor  little  Peterkee. 
I'm  afeared  she  will  be  punished. 

(Distantly,  a  faint  rumbling  sounds.     Rip  starts  up.) 
Hark,  there's  thunder! 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  19 

THE  OLD  MEN 
(Go  off  slowly  into  the  Inn) 

Come  away!    The  clouds  are  dark 
On  the  mountain,  soon  'twill  shower. 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 

Hear  the  old  fools!     What's  a  shower? 

It  won't  last  a  half  an  hour 

When  the  sun  shines.     Will  it,  neighbors? 

THE  WOMEN 
(Coming  forward  from  the  fountain) 

Nay,  nay,  nay! 

A  sunshine  shower 
Won't  last  a  half  an  hour. 

RIP 

(Still  dejected,  lifts  some  of  the  papers  on  the  table  and 
looks  at  them.) 

What  a  fool  I  was,  forgetting 
All  this  wedding  business! 

(Gazing  toward  the  Inn) 

Ah, 
My  poor  little  Peterkee! 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 
Come  along,  Rip!     Quit  your  worry! 

THE  CHILDREN 
(Calling  gaily) 

Come,  Rip!     Come  and  have  some  fun. 


20  RIP  7 AN  WINKLE 

RIP 

(Turning  to  them) 

Sure,  my  dears!     What  shall  we  do? 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 
Come  dance  with  me! 

THE  CHILDREN 

Come  dance  with  us! 
Sing  us  Nancy,  Spanking  Nancy! 

RIP 
Dance  away,  then!    Join  us,  neighbors! 

(Rip  and  the  Goose-Girl  are  surrounded  by  the  Children, 
who  dance  in  their  wooden  shoes  to  the  fiddling  of  a  Fiddler 
near  by. 

Rip,  at  the  centre,  in  gay  pantomime  with  the  Goose-Girl, 
sings,  while  the  Village  Women  ioin  in  the  chorus.} 

RIP 

Nancy,  come  in,  and  bolt  the  barn; 

Go  tight  the  shade  and  turn  the  shutters; 
Fasten  the  pane  against  the  rain: 

Hark!     The  thunder  mutters. 
Then — 

ALL 

Up  spoke  Nancy,  spanking  Nancy, 
Says,  'My  feet  are  far  too  dancy, 
Dancy,  O! 

So  foot-on-the-grass, 

Foot-on-the-grass, 
Foot-on-the-grass  is  my  fancy,  O!' 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  21 

RIP 

Nancy,  come  back!     The  wind  is  wild; 

It  racks  the  rick  and  mow  asunder; 
Wet  in  the  blast,  who's  he  went  past  ? 

Stay!     O,  hear  it  thunder!' 
Then — 

ALL 

Answered  Nancy,  airy  Nancy, 
Says,  'My  heart's  too  high  and  dancy, 
Dancy,  O! 

So,  fall-o'-the-rain, 

Fall-o'-the-rain, 
Fall-o'-the-rain  is  my  fancy,  O!' 

(As  the  Children  finish  their  dance,  a  low  rumble  of 
thunder  is  heard  again.  The  Women  gather  up  their  washing 
and  hurry  off.  The  Goose-Girl  calls:) 

THE  GOOSE-GIRL 

Rain  will  soon  be  falling.     Come! 
Hurry,  neighbors! 

THE  WOMEN 
(Sing,  as  they  go) 

Oh,  a  sunshine  shower 
Won't  last  a  half  an  hour. 

(The  Women  go  off  behind  the  Inn;  the  Children  linger 
at  the  Church  porch.  Meantime,  from  the  Inn  door,  Peterkee 
comes  stealthily  out,  half  hidden  under  a  great  cloak.  Hurry- 
ing toward  Rip  under  the  tree,  she  glances  back  furtively 
toward  the  Inn.) 

PETERKEE 
Rip!    O,  Rip!    Take  me  away! 


22  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

RIP 

(Greeting  her  affectionately) 

You,  Peterkee!     What  is  the  matter? 

PETERKEE 
(Half  sobbing) 

O,  hide  me  from  my  horrid  father: 
He  whipped  me.     I  will  never,  never 
Go  home  to  him  again! 

RIP 

(Cheerfully,  comforting  her) 

Of  course  not! 

And  he  shall  never,  never  whip  you 
Again.     I  will  not  let  him. 

PETERKEE 

Rip,  dear  Rip! 

O,  take  me  somewhere, 

Somewhere  far  away, 
Between  the  dewfall 

And  the  break  of  day, 
Where  we  can  live  together 
In  the  wild  goblin  castle  of  the  weather 

And  join  the  folk  of  faerie  at  their  play : 
O,  somewhere,  somewhere  take  me  with  you 

Far  away! 

RIP 

Of  course  I  will,  my  little  Peterkee! 
Come  on!     I'll  take  you  to  the  mountains. 

(Taking  Peterkee's  hand,  he  starts  to  leave,  when  the 
Children  run  forward  from  the  Church  porch,  surrounding 
Rip  and  Peterkee.) 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  23 

THE  CHILDREN 
Take  us,  too,  Rip!    Take  us,  too! 

(Thunder  rumbles  again  in  the  distance.) 

RIP 

Hark!     They're  playing  ninepins.     Hear 
Their  balls  go  rolling. 

PETERKEE 
Who  are  playing? 

RIP 

Old  Hendrick  Hudson  and  his  crew. 

PETERKEE 
Tell  me  all  about  them,  Rip. 

THE  CHILDREN 
Tell  us,  too,  Rip!    Tell  us,  too! 

RIP 

(To  the  Children,  who  gather  round  him  and  gaze  up 
with  wondering  eyes) 

Children,  in  the  olden  time 
Where  our  village  now  is  nestled, 
No  one  dwelled  amid  the  valley 
Or  the  mountains;  only  silent 
Wild  men  wandered,  where  at  sundown 
Sang  the  crickets  and  the  calling 
Katydids,  and  all  night  long 
Sorrowed  the  sad  Whip-poor-will. 


24  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 
Surely  it  was  very  lonesome  there. 

RIP 

Aye;  but  suddenly  one  sunrise 
Up  the  river,  shining  yonder, 
Came  a  ship  a-sailing.     All  her 
Decks  were  loud  with  roar  of  laughter; 
All  her  crew  were  drinking  lusty, 
And  her  Captain  he  was  singing: 
"Ho!     my  ship  she  is  the  Half  Moon, 
And  the  waters  of  the  river 
She's  a-sailing  are  mine  own — 
For  my  name  is  Hendrick  Hudson!" 

THE  CHILDREN 
(Murmur  in  awe) 

Hendrick  Hudson!     Hendrick  Hudson! 

RIP 

So  he  sang — and  so  he  vanished. 

PETERKEE 
Where,  Rip?     Tell  us  where  he  vanished. 

RIP 

Ah !     Who  knows  ? — But  ever  after, 
Once  in  every  twenty  summers, 
He  returns  again,  and  brings  his 
Ghostly  crew  to  sail  the  river 
And  make  merry  in  the  mountains. — 
Once,  myself,  I  saw  them. 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  25 

THE  CHILDREN 

You! 
Tell  us  how  you  saw  them,  Rip ! 

PETERKEE 
Did  you  really,  really  see  them? 

RIP 

Sure,  I  saw  them  plain  as  fairies 

When  I  was  a  tiny  fellow. 

Well  I  mind  me,  'twas  an  evening 

Twenty  years  ago  this  summer: 

All  the  river  was  on  fire 

In  the  sundown,  and  the  Half  Moon 

She  came  sailing,  with  her  bended 

Golden  prow  and  masts  of  silver, 

And  her  bright  keel  sprang  right  upward 

Out  of  the  waters,  and  she  rose  then 

Like  a  bird  above  the  pine-tops 

Toward  the  mountain,  and  along  her 

Bowsprit  balls  of  lightning  burst  in 

Noises  of  enormous  thunder, 

While  her  Captain — 

{An  immense  clap  of  thunder  strikes,  with  an  instant  of 
black  darkness,  out  of  which — gleaming  in  a  sunshine  shower 
— appears  the  ghostly  form  of  an  old  Dutch  sailor.  Pointing 
at  him,  Rip  cries  out:) 

There — there!     See  him! 
There  he  stands  now — Hendrick  Hudson! 

THE  CHILDREN 
(With  a  shrill  cry  of  terror} 
Hendrick  Hudson! 

(In  panic  they  rush  away  and  disappear — all  but  Peter- 
kee,  who  remains  beside  Rip.) 


26  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

HENDRICK  HUDSON 

By  storm  and  thunder  and  rain, — 
Good-morrow,  Rip  Van  Winkle! 

RIP 
Good-morrow,  Captain!     How  are  you? 

HENDRICK 

Right  glad  am  I  to  discover 
You  have  not  forgotten  me. — 
But  who  is  your  little  friend  here? 

PETERKEE 
{Supping  forward,  makes  a  timorous  curtsy} 

I'm  Peterkee. 

HENDRICK 
(Removing  his  wide,  flapping  hat,  makes  a  low  bow} 

Honored  to  know  you! 
I'm  Hendrick  Hudson. 

PETERKEE 
(With  another  curtsy} 

Sir,  I  am  happy  to  meet  you. 
I'm  sure  you  must  be  very  glad  to  visit 
Your  river  once  more. 

HENDRICK 

Yea,  after  twenty  years, 
To-night  I'll  be  returning  in  the  Half  Moon 
With  my  old  shipmates.     Yonder  in  the  mountains 
At  midnight  we  shall  hold  a  merry  party 
To  bowl  at  ninepins.     Since  you  both  have  been 
So  kind  as  to  believe  in  us,  I'm  here 
To  invite  you  to  our  party.     Will  you  come? 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  27 

PETERKEE 

O  Rip,  please,  please! 

RIP 

We  thank  you  kindly,  Captain. 

HENDRICK 

You'll  be  right  welcome.     I  will  let  you  taste 

A  wonder  drink  we  brew  aboard  the  Half  Moon. 

Whoever  drinks  the  magic  flask  thereof 

Forgets  all  lapse  of  time, 

And  wanders  ever  in  the  fairy  season 

Of  youth  and  spring. 

Come  join  me  in  the  mountains 

At  mid  of  night, 

And  there  I  promise  you  the  Magic  Flask. 

(Katrina  and  Jan  come  out  of  the  Inn  and  approach. 
Seeing  them,  Rip  exclaims  delightedly  to  Hendrick  Hudson:) 

RIP 
Ah!  for  a  wedding  gift  to  bring  my  bride? 

HENDRICK 
Yea,  if  your  bride  be  truly  your  true  love. 

(The  shower  has  ceased. 
The  golden  sunshine  has  gone. 
The  shadow  darkens. 

As  Rip  and  Peterkee  turn  toward  Katrina  and  Jan, 
Hendrick  Hudson  vanishes.} 

RIP 

Ha!  now  no  more,  Katrina, 
You'll  call  me  Good-for-nothing.     Now  you'll  be 
As  happy  as  a  queen,  when  I  shall  bring  you 
The  Magic  Flask. 


28  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 

Yes,  yes,  you  will  be  happy, 
And  proud  of  Rip.     And  I  will  go  along 
To  help  him  fetch  it  for  your  wedding  gift, 
And  then  you  will  not  scold  us  any  more. 

KATRINA 

A  magic  flask!     A  wedding  gift!     You  fools, 
What  are  you  gabbing  now? 

RIP 

Do  you  not  hear  him — 
The  promise  now  he  makes? 

KATRINA 

Hear  who?    What  promise? 

PETERKEE 
(Turning,  with  a  sharp  cry) 

O  look,  Rip:  he  is  gone! 

RIP 
(Staring  around  and  upward) 

Good  Lord!  Where  is  he? 
We've  lost  him. 

KATRINA 
Ha!    You've  lost  another  kite! 

RIP 

Nay — Hendrick  Hudson:    he  himself  was  here  now, 
And  promised  me  the  wonder  drink  he  brews 
Aboard  the  Half  Moon. 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  29 

JAN 

Ca-  ca-  come,  Katrina! 
This  fellow  has  been  drinking. 

KATRINA 

Aye,  he's  drtmk 
And  daft  as  ever. 

RIP 

(Appealingly) 

No,  no,  no,  Katrina! 
I  promise  you — 

KATRINA 

Haha!    You  promise!    Well, 
I  give  you  one  more  chance  to  keep  your  word. 
Go  to  the  mountains  for  your  Magic  Flask 
And  bring  it  back  to  me.     But  if  you  fail 
To  fetch  it  here  by  sundown  of  to-morrow, 
Think  not  I  will  be  jilted  twice  by  you, 
For  I  will  hold  my  wedding  anyway 
And  marry  him,  there — Jan. 

JAN 

Aye,  me-  me-  me! 

KATRINA 
Remember  your  last  chance:  to-morrow  sundown! 

RIP 

(Cries  confidently) 
To-morrow  sundown! 

(With  a  great  peal  of  thunder,  the  air  darkens,  lightning 
zigzags,  and — through  black  downpour  of  rain — the  deep  voice 
of  Hendrick  Hudson  is  heard  calling.) 


30  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

THE  VOICE  OF  HENDRICK  HUDSON 

Ho,  there!    Ho,  there! 
Rip  Van  Winkle! 
Come  to  the  mountains! 

PETERKEE 
(Joyously) 

Hark!     He's  calling! 

KATRINA  AND  JAN 
(Startled  and  aghast) 

Who  is  calling? 

PETERKEE 
Come!    O  come,  Rip! 

(Snatching  Rip's  hand,  Peterkee  clings  to  him  in  the 
storm,  as  they  go — silhouetted  by  the  lightning.) 

RIP 

(Laughing  aloud — a  glad,  crazy  laughter) 

Ah-ha-ha-ha ! 

Hendrick  Hudson!    Hendrick  Hudson! 

Ho,  there! 

THE  VOICE  OF  HENDRICK  HUDSON 
(Calling,  far  off) 

Rip  Van  Winkle! 

RIP 

Ho,  there! 
We  are  coming! 


End  of  Act  First 


ACT  SECOND 


ACT  II 

SCENE  FIRST 

Interior  of  Rip's  hut  on  the  edge  of  the  woods,  at  ap- 
proaching twilight. 

From  outside  Rip  and  Peterkee  open  the  door  of  the 
hut,  and  enter  together. 

RIP 

Come,  Peterkee:  come  in! 
Here  is  my  house 
Where  I  will  bring  my  bride 
When  I  am  married. 

PETERKEE 
(Going  to  the  big  fireplace) 

Now,  Rip,  stand  near  the  fire; 
You  are  all  wet! 
The  storm  is  over,  but  still 
The  eaves  are  dripping. 

RIP 
I  never  mind  the  rain. 

(From  a  peg  on  the  wall,  Peterkee  lifts  down  an  old  coat 
and  holds  it  for  Rip  to  put  on.) 

PETERKEE 

Here,  change  your  coat. 
My  big  cloak  kept  me  dry 
But  you  are  soaking. 
You  must  get  dry  before 
We  climb  the  mountain. 

RIP 

(Changing  his  coat) 

All  right,  my  little  one. 

33 


34  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 
(Looks  about  eagerly,  examining  the  room) 

And  we  must  take 
Some  food  along,  or  else 
You  might  be  hungry. — 
Where  is  your  cupboard? 

RIP 

(Opens  a  little  door  in  the  chimney  place] 

Here! 

Here's  where  I'll  keep 
The  Magic  Flask,  when  I 
Shall  bring  my  bride  home. 

PETERKEE 

The  Magic  Flask:  ah,  yes! 
That  must  be  kept  safe. 
But,  Rip,  where  is  your  food? 
The  cupboard  is  empty! 

RIP 

Sure,  I  eat  all  I  want 
At  neighbors'  houses. 

PETERKEE 

And,  Rip,  why  is  your  hearth 
So  black  and  sooty? 

RIP 

I  reckon  't  is  the  wind 
Blows  down  the  chimney. — 
And  that  reminds  me  of 
An  old  ghost  story: 

(Mysteriously) 
'T  was  once  upon  a  time — 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  35 

PETERKEE 
(Interrupts,  abruptly) 

Your  house  needs  sweeping. 

0  Rip,  where  is  your  broom? 

RIP 

1  never  use  one. 

PETERKEE 

Nay,  that  will  never  do 
When  you  are  married! 

In  the  home  where  a  bride  keeps  house 
All  must  be  neat  as  a  hive  of  honey: 
There  shall  be  never  moth  nor  mouse; 

The  floor  shall  be  strewn  with  rushes, 
The  cupboard  be  crammed  with  cakes  and  money 
And  the  garden  be  glad  with  thrushes. 

RIP 

Aye,  so  my  house  shall  be,  when 

I  bring  my  bride  here, 

And  we  shall  drink  the  wonder  draft  together 

Out  of  the  Magic  Flask. — 

But  now,  my  Peterkee, 

We  must  go  onward 

And  climb  the  mountain  till  we  find 

Old  Hendrick  Hudson. 

(Taking  from  the  wall  a  gun  with  shoulder-strap,  he 
opens  the  door  and  they  look  out  in  the  gathering  twilight. 
Peterkee  pauses,  listening.} 

PETERKEE 
Hark,  Rip!     What  sound  is  that? 


36  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

RIP 

That's  fairy  gossips  talking 
About  your  sister: 
Some  say  that  Katy  did: 
Some  say,  she  didn't. 

PETERKEE 
But  who  is  calling  yonder? 

RIP 

That's  poor  Will.— 
Come  on,  now! 

PETERKEE 

O  dear  Rip, 
Hold  fast  my  hand: 
I'm  half  afraid. — 
'T  is  growing  dark  outdoors. 

(Hand  in  hand,  they  go  out  together,  disappearing  in  the 
wood.)* 


"The  scene  changes  in  darkness.    The  curtain  does  not  fall. 


SCENE  SECOND 

A  Mountain  Path  in  the  forest. 

Twilight  is  paling  to  shadowy  moonlight. 

Rip  and  Peterkee  enter  together. 

Around  them,  the  night  noises  of  the  gloaming — the 
chirpings  of  drowsy  birds  and  insects — take  on  at  times  the 
sound  of  Fairy  Voices,  in  faint  solo  or  chorus. 

THE  FAIRY  VOICES 

Katy  did! — Katy  didn't! 
Katy  did!— No,  she  didn't! 

PETERKEE 
(To  Rip) 

What  was  it  Katy  did  ? 

RIP 
Ah,  that's  a  secret. 

A  GOBLIN  VOICE 
Whip  poor  Will!— Whip  poor  Will! 

FAIRY  VOICES 
(In  chorus) 

Whip  poor  Will! 

A  FAIRY  VOICE 
Katy  did! 

PETERKEE 
(To  Rip) 

Did  Katy  whip  poor  Will? 

37 


38  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

THE  FAIRY  VOICE 
She  didn't!     Katy  didn't! 

THE  GOBLIN  VOICE 
Whip  poor  Will! 

PETERKEE 

0  Rip,  I  do  not  understand  them.     Why 
Do  they  say  Katy  didn't  if  she  did? 
And  if  she  did,  why  do  they  want  to  whip 
Poor  Will  again?     Please  tell  me — was  it  Katy 
Or  Will,  who  was  to  blame? 

RIP 

Whatever  Katy  did — 

None  shall  unbare  it: 
The  shame,  in  darkness  hid, 
Poor  Will  must  share  it 
Where  all  alone 

On  midnight  moor  or  hill, 
Remorseful,  he  makes  his  moan: 

Whip  poor  Will!     Whip  poor  Will! 

PETERKEE 

Dear  Rip,  the  path  is  dim  and  hard  to  find; 

1  fear  we've  lost  our  way. 

RIP 

Nay,  never  worry! 
I  know  the  way. 

PETERKEE 

But  where  are  we  to  find 
The  Captain  and  his  crew? 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  39 

RIP 

We  must  be  near  them 

Right  now,  for  we  are  near  the  mountain  peak. 
Wait:  I  will  call  them. 

(Putting  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  he  calls) 

Hendrick  Hudson,  ho! 

(In  reply ',  his  call  is  answered  by  a  Chorus  of  ghostly 
Echoes,  growing  ever  fainter.} 

THE  ECHOES 
Hendrick  Hudson! — Hudson,  ho! 

PETERKEE 
(Nestling  close  to  Rip) 

I  wish  we  were  at  home. 

RIP 

(Calls  again) 

Half  Moon, — ahoy! 

A  DEEP  VOICE 

(Answers  in  the  distance) 

Ahoy!    Ahoy! 

PETERKEE 
Hark,  Rip!     Who  answers  there? 

THE  DEEP  VOICE 

One  leg  on  the  land  and  one  on  the  water, 
Weigh  I     Heigh  !     Blow  the  man  down  ! 

It's  how  can  I  dance  with  the  fishmonger's  daughter? 
Ho,  rock,  and  roll  me  over  I 


40  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 

(Peering  with  frightened  curiosity,  points  at  the  strange 
figure  of  a  Dutch  Sailor,  who  enters,  supporting  a  keg  in  one 
arm  and  another  on  his  back.) 

See,  who  is  coming! 

RIP 

'T  is  as  queer  a  land-crab 
As  ever  I  set  eyes  on.     He  must  be 
One  of  the  ghosts  who  sail  old  Hendrick's  ship. 

THE  SAILOR 
(Sings  on,  tipsily) 

One  keg  in  my  hand  and  one  on  my  shoulder, 
Weigh  I     Heigh  !     Blow  the  man  down  ! 

It's  how  can  I  heave-to  alongside  and  hold  her? 
Ho,  rock,  and  roll  me  over  ! 

RIP 

Ahoy,  there !    Who  are  you  ? 

THE  SAILOR 

Ahoy,  Mynheer  Van  Winkle! 
I  am  Dirck  Spuytenduyvil, 
Mate  of  the  good  ship  Half  Moon. 
My  captain,  Hendrick  Hudson, 
He  told  me  you  were  coming 
To  join  our  bowling  party 
With   Peterkee. 

RIP 

Oho,  then, 

You  know  us  both  already! 
What  are  you  bearing  yonder 
In  those  two  kegs? 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  41 

DlRCK 

In  these,  sir, 
Here's  drink  to  wet  our  whistles. 

PETERKEE 

O  Rip,  what  if  it  might  be 
The  wonder  draft! — Good  sailor, 
I'm  sure  you  must  be  tired; 
Those  kegs  look  heavy.     Can't  we 
Help  you  to  carry  'em? 

DIRCK 

Thank  ye  '. 

Kindly. 

RIP 

(Lifting  one  of  the  kegs  on  his  shoulder) 

I'll  carry  this  one. 
Now,  Master  Ship-Mate,  show  us 
The  path,  to  join  your  party. 

i 
DIRCK 

Aye,  aye,  sir!     Follow  me,  now. 

(As  they  follow,  he  reels  ahead  of  them,  singing:) 

Oh,  bang  on  the  bung  and  spill  at  the  spigot, 
Weigh  !  Heigh  !  Blow  the  man  down  I 

It's  come  along,  Jockie  my  hearty,  and  jig  it: 
Ho,  rock,  and  roll  me  over  /* 


*The  curtain  does  not  fall. 


SCENE  THIRD 

During  the  chanty  of  Dirck  Spuytenduyvil,  Rip, 
Peterkee  and  Dirck  have  disappeared  along  the  dim  upward- 
climbing  wood-path,  which  now  emerges  upon  a  rocky, 
open  space,  revealing  the  moonlit  peak  of  a  mountain. 

Here  the  shadowy  forms  of  Hendrick  Hudson  and  his 
Crew  are  discovered,  drinking  from  their  sailors'  flagons, 
and  singing  in  chorus — during  which  Dirck  enters  and 
seats  himself  on  his  keg,  soon  followed  by  Rip  and  Peterkee, 
who  pause  on  the  edge  of  the  scene. 

HENDRICK  AND  His  CREW 
{In  chorus) 

Oh,  nor'-  nor'-  west  o'  the  Milky  Way, 

And  sou'-  sou'-  east  o'  the  Dipper, 
Here's  hoy  to  the  voyage  of  our  Half  Moon,  hearties, 
Hoy  to  our  roaming  clipper, 
As  round  old  'Roraborealis, 

Port  o'  the  Bear  and  Lion, 
As  we  roar — as  we  roar — as  we  roar  her, 
As  we  roar  her  towards  Orion! 

Oh,  east-  nor'-  east  o'  the  Scorpion's  eye, 

And  west  o'  the  starry  Wagon, 
Here's  hoy  to  the  drink  of  our  Half  Moon,  hearties, 
Hoy  to  her  magic  flagon, 
As  round  old  'Roraborealis, 

Port  o'  the  Bear  and  Lion, 
As  we  roar — as  we  roar — as  we  roar  her, 
As  we  roar  her  towards  Orion! 

PETERKEE 
(Pointing,  in  awe) 

O  Rip,  are  they  real? 
What  makes  them  look  so  strangely? 

42 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  43 

HENDRICK 

(Approaching  them) 

Ho,  there  you  are! 

Right  welcome,  Rip  and  Peterkee! 

PETERKEE 

(Shyly) 
Good  evening,  Sir. 

RIP 
We've  come  to  your  party,  Captain. 

HENDRICK 

(Taking  Peterkee 'j  hand,  presents  her  to  the  circle  of 
ghostly  Sailors) 

Attention,  Crew! 

I  make  you  all  acquainted 

With  Peterkee. 

(Peterkee  curtsies  as  the  staring  Crew  bow,  all  together, 
in  pantomime,  with  comical  abruptness.} 

THE  CREW 

(Ejaculate,  staccato,  as  they  bow) 
So!     Most  decidedly  so! 

PETERKEE 

(With  merry  laughter) 
Ah-ha,  Rip!     Aren't  they  funny? 

RIP 

Be  careful!     They 

Are  ghosts,  and  never  laugh. 

THE  CREW 

No!     Most  decidedly  no! 


44  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 
I  meant  no  harm. 

HENDRICK 

(Ushering  Peter kee  to  a  rock,  in  the  midst  of  the  sur- 
rounding Sailors) 

It  is  so  long  a  while  since  we  were  honored 

To  have  a  little  maiden  come  amongst  us, 

I'm  sure  that  Mistress  Peterkee  will  favor 

Our  party  with  her  counsel  as  housekeeper 

And  tell  us  how  to  keep  our  Half  Moon  shipshape. 

THE  CREW 
(Bowing,  as  before,  to  Peterkee} 

So!    Unreservedly  so! 

DlRCK 

Aye,  aye,  she's  the  right  sort. 

RIP 

(To  Peterkee) 

Don't  be  frightened. 

PETERKEE 
(Sitting  on  the  rock) 

I  thank  you,  Captain;  but  I've  never  seen 
Your  ship,  the  Half  Moon.     All  I  know  of  ships 
My  mother  sang  to  me  when  I  was  little. 

HENDRICK 
Pray  sing  it  now  to  us! 

DIRCK 
Aye,  aye,  now  sing  it! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  45 

\ 

THE  CREW 
(With  another  bow) 
Sing!     Most  decidedly  sing! 

PETERKEE 

So  runs  the  song: 

Wait,  wait,  my  own,  till  our  ship  comes  in 

O'er  the  dark  waves  between: 
Silver  spangles  on  her  spars, 
All  her  ballast  golden  bars, 
All  her  lanterns  shining  stars, 

Shall  our  ship  come  in. 

Wait,  wait,  my  dear:  when  our  ship  comes  in 

We  shall  be  King  and  Queen. 
Scarlet-turbanned  blackamors, 
Laden  all  with  louisdors, 
Shall  unload  her  cabin  floors, 

When  our  ship  comes  in. 

HENDRICK 

Aye,  aye;  but  wait  until  you  see  our  ship 
That  sails  both  sea  and  air. 

PETERKEE 

Where  is  she? 

HENDRICK 

Yonder 

She's  anchored  by  a  cloud-bank.     From  her  cabin 
I've  brought  you  here  the  little  gift  I  promised — 
The  Magic  Flask. 

RIP  AND  PETERKEE 
(Together ,  eagerly) 
Oh,  show  us  the  Magic  Flask! 


46  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

HENDRICK 

(Taking  out  a  quaintly  shaped  flask  of  crystal  set  in  gold, 
holds  it  upward,  gleaming  in  the  moonlight} 

Behold! 

PETERKEE 

Look,  Rip;  how  beautiful  it  shines! 

RIP 
Where  did  you  find  it,  Captain? 

HENDRICK 

Long  ago 
A  spirit  of  these  mountains  gave  it  to  me. 

As  I  was  sailing,  a-sailing, 

A  new  world  for  to  discover, 

I  saw  on  the  shore  of  the  sunset 

An  Indian  girl,  all  lonely 

Naked  and  wild  and  wonderful, 

Who  beckoned  me  for  her  lover. 

As  I  was  yearning,  a-yearning, 

I  plunged  in  the  twilight  river 

And  swam  to  the  headland  beside  her; 

And  there  to  my  lips  she  lifted 

The  crystal  mouth  of  a  magic  flask 
With  fiery  waters  a-quiver. 

As  I  was  staring,  a-staring, 

She  fled  away  to  the  mountains: 
I  followed  the  flame  of  her  footsteps, 
I  followed  and  climbed,  but  she  vanished 
And  left  me  only,  here  in  a  flask, 

The  light  of  her  living  fountains. 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  47 

PETERKEE 
(With  quick  sympathy) 

And  so  you  lost  your  bride? 

HENDRICK 

Aye,  Peterkee: 

But  I  have  saved  this  Magic  Flask,  till  I 
Should  find  a  pair  of  lovers,  who  believe 
In  wonder  and  are  brave  enough  to  climb 
Beyond  the  world  a  new  world  to  discover. 
To  them  I'll  give  the  flask. 

PETERKEE 

Oh,  then,  dear  Captain,  give  the  flask  to  Rip, 
For  Rip  is  very  brave,  and  he  has  climbed 
Away  up  here,  to  fetch  the  Magic  Flask 
Back  to  Katrina. 

DIRCK 

(Blurts  out,  gruffly) 

Who  the  devil  now 
Is  Katrina? 

RIP 

(With  a  laugh) 

Why,  old  Spitting  Devil,  she's 
My  bride. 

PETERKEE 

Katrina  is  my  sister.     We 
Must  bring  to  her  the  Magic  Flask  before 
The  morrow's  sundown,  for  a  wedding  gift. 
Rip  promised. 


48  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

DlRCK 

(Pulling  Hendrick  aside) 

Blast  Katrina!     Lookee,  Captain: 
This  here  won't  do.     Our  little  Peterkee 
She  mustn't  be  chucked  overboard  for  no 
Katrina. 

HENDRICK 
What  are  we  to  do  about  it? 


DlRCK 

Take  my  advice  and  keep  these  young  folks  here. 
I'll  play  a  game  at  bowls  with  Peterkee: 
You  make  the  stakes  to  be  the  Magic  Flask, 

(Winking,  with  a  broad  grimace) 
And  let  the  winner  keep  the  stakes! 


HENDRICK 

Well  thought  on! 

(Turning  to  Rip  and  Peterkee) 

Young  friends,  ere  I  present  this  gift,  I  pray 
You  first  will  join  our  party  in  a  game 
Of  ninepins,  and  the  winner  of  the  strike 
Shall  win  the  Magic  Flask. 


RIP 
(As  Dirck  rolls  forth  some  big  bowling  balls) 

Heigh !     Now  f  or  f  u  n ! 
Here:  let  me  try  a  throw. 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  49 

HENDRICK 

Nay — ladies  first! 
Come,  Peterkee!     You  bowl  with  Dirck. 


PETERKEE 

I'll  try; 
But  Rip,  I  hope,  can  help  me  if  I  lose. 

(Starting  to  lift  a  ball) 
How  do  you  hold  'em,  Dirck? 


So  fashion! 


DIRCK 

I'll  show  ye!     Look: 


(Dirck,  in  pantomime,  shows  Peterkee  how  to  hold  and 
swing  the  ball,  then  beckons  her  to  follow  him  as  he  mounts 
upon  a  rocky  ledge} 

Come!    Here's  where  we  stand  to  bowl. 


PETERKEE 
(Follows  him  gaily,  swinging  her  ball) 

Why,  these  are  light  as  balls  of  dandelion. 

Come,  Rip,  and  watch.     Where  are  the  ninepins,  Dirck? 


DIRCK 

You  see  yon  thunder-cap  below  the  moon? 
Yonder  they  be.     We  bowl  along  the  cloud. 


50  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

HENDRICK 

Now  throw  your  balls,  and  see  who'll  win  the  prize. 
Dirck,  you  begin. 

DlRCK 

Aye,  aye,  Sir! 

(Peterkee,  with  wondering  eager  eyes,  stands  very  near 
to  Dirck  as  he  starts  to  throw. 

Embarrassed  by  her  close  gaze,  he  stops  his  swinging 
arm  with  a  jerk  and  a  bow  to  her) 

By  your  leave, 

My  lady,  stand  a  bit  away:  you  might 
Take  fire  with  the  sparks,  when  I  let  her  fly. 


RIP 

(Pulling  her  back) 

Be  careful,  Peterkee! 

PETERKEE 
(Startled,  but  curious) 

I  see  no  sparks. 
I  really  don't  believe  there  are  any. 


HENDRICK 
(In  a  stern,  loud  voice) 

Ahoy,  Dirck,  let  her  go! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  51 

DlRCK 

She  goes,  Sir! 

(Swinging  his  ball,  he  bowls  it  through  the  air  off  the 
scene.  As  it  leaves  his  hand,  sparkles  of  flame  light  the  peak 
where  they  are  standing,  followed  by  instant  darkness,  through 
which  a  low-rolling  rumble  breaks  into  crackling  thunder,  and 
the  voice  of  Hendrick  Hudson  calls  aloud:) 

Three! 
Three  pins  down! 

(More  faintly,  his  voice  dies  away) 
Only  three! 

( Then  a  moment  of  utter  silence  fills  the  darkness,  through 
which  straggles  a  single,  feeble  beam  of  moonlight,  touching 
the  forms  of  Rip  and  Peterkee  on  the  peak.) 

PETERKEE 

(Seizing  Rip's  hand  in  wondering  consternation,  looks 
around,  and  says  to  him  in  a  low  voice) 

Where  are  they,  Rip? 

(The  moonlight  spreads  over  the  scene,  but  reveals  no 
one  except  Rip  and  Peterkee  standing  in  the  silence.) 

RIP 

(Staring  about) 

We're  all  alone! 

PETERKEE 
O  Rip,  were  we  only  dreaming? 

RIP 

Nay,  sure,  they  must  be  fooling. — Ahoy,  there! 


52  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

RIP  AND  PETERKEE 
(Calling  together) 

Ahoy! 

(Again  a  momentary  shadow  passes  over  the  scene,  as  a 
ghostly  chorus  of  men's  voices  is  heard  answering 

"Ahoy!" 

and  the  returning  moonlight  discovers  Hendrick,  Dirck  and  the 
Crew  standing  exactly  where  they  were  before.) 

HENDRICK 
(To  Peter kee) 

You  really  mustn't  say  you  don't  believe: 
It  might  break  up  our  party! 

PETERKEE 
(Hanging  her  head) 

I  beg  your  pardon. 

HENDRICK 

Dirck,  you  were  rattled.     You  scored  only  three. 
Now,  Peterkee,  't  is  your  turn.     Here  is  the  flask: 
Whoever  wins  the  strike  shall  have  it.     Bowl,  now! 

RIP 

(Seizing  up  a  ball,  with  excitement) 

Heigh,  there!     I  want  to  bowl.     My  turn  comes  next! 

PETERKEE 
First  watch  me,  Rip. 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  53 

THE  CREW 
(Bowing,  and  pointing  at  Peterkee) 

Watch!     Most  decidedly  watch! 

(All  peer  forward,  watching  Peterkee. 
She  throws  the  ball. 

Flames  flash  again,  and  the  low  rumbling  bursts  into 
crackling  thunder,  as  Hendrick  calls:} 

HENDRICK 
All  down!    A  strike! 

THE  CREW  AND  ALL 

(Shout) 

A  strike  for  Peterkee! 

PETERKEE 
(Clapping  her  hands  and  dancing) 

I've  won!     I've  won!     I've  won  the  Magic  Flask! 

HENDRICK 
(Handing  it  to  her) 
Yea,  fairly  won:  congratulations! 

PETERKEE 
(Taking  it  with  a  curtsy) 

Thank  you. 

DIRCK 

(With  doleful  grimace} 

Drown  me!     She  rattled  me  so  I  lost  my  grip! 


54  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 

Now  hurry,  Rip,  for  we  have  far  to  go 

And  we  must  haste,  or  you  will  lose  your  bride. 

RIP 

Nay,  not  before  I  bowl!     We're  just  beginning 
Our  party,  and  the  night  is  young. 

DIRCK 

Aye,  aye! 

HENDRICK 
Yea,  Peterkee,  the  night  and  you  are  young. 

THE  CREW 
(Ardently,  with  a  bow) 

Young!    Most  decidedly  young! 

» 
DIRCK 

(Pulling  Hendrick  aside  again) 

Too  young  she  is 

To  be  a  bride,  yet  she  must  be  Rip's  bride 
And  not  Katrina. 

HENDRICK 

Yea,  but  you  lost  the  game. 
How  can  we  manage  now? 

(Dirck  draws  Hendrick  further  aside,  where  they  con- 
verse in  -pantomime. 

Meantime,  Peterkee  follows  Rip  to  the  rocky  ledge,  where 
he  begins  to  swing  his  ball  as  she  remonstrates  with  him.) 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  55 

PETERKEE 

0  Rip,  dear  Rip,  the  dawn  will  soon  be  here, 
There  is  no  time  to  tarry. 

RIP 

Who  recks  for  time? 
I'll  bowl  till  sun-up  and  the  birds  are  singing. 

PETERKEE 

But,  Rip,  the  way  is  far.     If  you  are  late 

JT  is  your  last  chance.     You  promised.    O,  remember! 

RIP 

(Offering  her  a  ball) 

Remember  what?     Here!     Play  this  game  with  me. 

PETERKEE 
(With  sober  reproval) 

1  must  not,  Rip.     I'm  going.     Follow  me. 

HENDRICK 
(To  Dirck,  with  whom  he  has  been  conversing) 

Nay,  here's  the  plan:    We'll  let  her  go,  but  keep 

Rip  here  a-bowling,  till  it  be  too  late. 

In  yonder  keg  is  drink,  to  make  him  sleep 

Long  time  enough  for  Peterkee  to  grow 

Ripe  for  his  bride.     Then  we  will  come  once  more 

This  way,  ourselves  to  celebrate  his  wedding. 

DlRCK 

A  right  good  plan! 


56  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

HENDRICK 

Now  go  with  her 
And  guide  her  down  the  mountain. 

PETERKEE 

(Who  has  come  down  from  the  rocky  ledge  to  the  verge  oj 
the  scene,  pauses  there — holding  up  the  flask — and  calls  back.) 

Rip,  O  Rip, 
Here  is  the  Magic  Flask!     Come  with  me! — Come! 

RIP 

(Enthusiastically  swinging  a  ball,  gives  no  heed,  but 
shouts:) 

Ho!    Watch  this  throw! 

(He  throws  the  ball,  which  emits  lightning,  followed  by 
the  rumbling  reverberations  but  no  crash  of  thunder. 

Amid  the  rumbling,  Dirck  speaks  quickly  to  Peterkee.) 

DIRCK 

Don't  worry,  little  one; 

I'll  show  ye  the  path,  and  him,  the  Captain  there, 
He'll  fetch  Rip  after  us. 

PETERKEE 

Oh,  thank  you,  Dirck. 
Good-night,  dear  friends.    We've  had  a  grand  good  time! 

(She  kisses  her  hand  to  them  all.) 

THE  CREW 

(With  emotion,  forgetting  to  bow,  but  kissing  their  hands 
to  her  in  reply) 

Grand!     Most  decidedly  grand! 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  57 

HENDRICK 

Good-night,  dear  child! 


PETERKEE 
(Disappearing  with  Dirck) 

Come!     Come,  Rip! 

RIP 

Hoy,  there,  Captain:  Play  me  a  game! 
I  missed  one  throw,  but  I'll  soon  learn  the  hang. 

HENDRICK 

Sure,  Rip,  you'll  beat  us  all.     Here,  Bo'sun,  fetch 
Yon  keg,  and  give  Mynheer  Van  Winkle  drink. 

(One  of  the  Crew  pours  from  the  keg  two  flagonfuls  of  the 
liquor — one  for  Hendrick,  one  for  Rip) 

Here's  luck,  my  lad !    Three  drinks  of  this  good  schnapps 
Will  make  you  Jack  o'  Trumps,  but  three  times  three 
Will  crown  you  King  o'  the  Ninepins. 


RIP 
(Toasting  Hendrick) 

Here's  how,  Captain! 
And  three  times  three  for  Rip! 

THE  CREW 
(Shout) 

Ho,  three  times  three  for  Rip! 


58  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

HENDRICK 

Well  said,  my  hearties! 

And  now,  Rip,  while  you  try  your  hand  in  practice, 
Join  with  us  while  we  pipe  our  bowling  chanty! 

(Drinking,  Rip  stands  alone  on  his  rocky  eminence,  the 
others  below  him.  There  he  seizes  up  a  ball,  sets  aside  his 
flagon,  and  begins  to  bowl. 

During  his  bowling,  and  the  choral  song  which  accom- 
panies it,  he  pauses,  between  throws,  to  drink  again  and  again 
— growing  ever  more  fantastically  drunk,  and  delighted  in  his 
play  of  lightning  and  thunder — while  the  Boatswain  replen- 
ishes his  flagon. 

Blending  with  the  Chorus  also  are  heard  the  far-off  voices 
of  Peterkee  and  Dirck,  calling  from  the  mountain-path  below: 

"Come,  O  come,  Rip!" 
"Bowl  no  longer!") 

HENDRICK 

(To  a  music  eerie  and  fantastic,  but  in  full  rhythm  to  the 
emphatic  beat  and  swing  of  the  bowling) 

Bowl,  ball!     Bowl,  ball! 

Who  is  booming  over  the  world  ? 
Noonshine,  moonshine, 

Who'll  be  hit,  and  who'll  be  hurled, 
And  who'll  be  King  o'  the  Ninepins  ? 

CHORUS 

Bowl,  ball! 

Crack  'em,  Jack! 

Hark!     They  fall 

Where  dark  and  wrack 

Roll  and  crawl 

With  the  brawling  thunder! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  59 

Bowl,  ball! 
Whack  'em,  Jack! 
Roll  'em  under 
Wrack  and  pall 
And  world  and  all 
And  you'll  be  King  o'  the  Ninepins! 

RIP 

Bowl,  ball!     Bowl,  ball! 

Who  is  bursting  shadowy  bars? 
Wan  light,  dawn  light, 

Who'll  rise  up  and  bowl  the  stars 
And  who'll  be  King  o'  the  Ninepins? 

(In  pauses  of  his  bowling  Rip  has  drunk  from  his  flagon 
{or  the  sixth  time.} 

RIP 
(Sings  on) ' 

Bowl,  ball!     Bowl,  ball! 

Who  is  laughing,  lord  o'  the  sky? 
Mountain  height,  midnight, 

Who  is  King,  if  he's  not  I  ? — 
Ho,  King  o'  the  Stormy  Ninepins! 

(Now  the  Chorus ,  singing  again,  grows  gradually  fainter, 
while  the  ghostly  forms  of  Hendrick  Hudson  and  his  Crew  all 
disappear  in  shadowy  mist  below,  leaving  only  the  figure  of 
Rip  palely  visible  in  a  beam  of  the  moon.} 

CHORUS 
(Growing  ever  fainter) 

Bowl,  ball! 

Crack  'em,  Jack! 

Hark!    They  fall 

Where  dark  and  wrack 

Roll  and  crawl 

With  the  brawling  thunder! 


60  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

Bowl,  ball! 
Whack  'em,  Jack! 
Roll  'em  under 
Wrack  and  pall 
And  world  and  all  — 
O  King  o'  the  Stormy  Ninepins ! 

(And  now  Rip,  who  has  drunk  for  the  eighth  time,  stares 
about  him,  swaying  with  intoxication.  Then,  raising  his 
flagon,  he  waves  it  toward  the  sky  and  calls  upward  off  the 
scene,  with  drawling  pauses  of  tipsy  utterance:} 

RIP 

Halloa,  Mynheer  Moon! — Hark  to  me:  I'm  King. 

A  King's  a  feller  who  can  count  up  Nine: 

One,  two,-  four-  six-  eight-  nine! — Here  goes  for  Nine! 

(He  drinks  a  last  draught  from  the  flagon.} 

So  have  a  drink  on  the  King,  old  Moon ! — Here's  luck, 
And  drain  her  dry! 

(Unsteadily,  he  flings  the  flagon  away  in  the  air,  and 
staggers  on  his  legs.} 

Nine  pins  is  luck,  they  say, 
But  all  my  nine  pins  won't  stay  under  me 
To  stand  me  up. 

(He  sinks  down  to  a  half-sitting  posture,  from  which  he 
points  off  at  the  sky,  and  beckons  with  his  forefinger.} 

Heigh,  Moon!     Come  here:    I  want  ye. — 
I  reckon  a  King  can  call  for  what  he  wants. — 
That's  right: — come  along! 

(Slowly,  while  he  calls,  appears  now — descending  to- 
ward him  through  the  sky — the  shining,  curved  prow  of  the 
golden  Half  Moon.  Ghostly  with  silver  spars  and  starry 
lanterns,  she  begins  to  float  full  into  sight,  manned  by  the 
Shadow  Crew  of  Hendrick  Hudson,  and  glides,  gleaming,  close 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  61 

to  the  peak  in  the  background,  as  Rip — more  and  more  over- 
come by  his  drink — continues  faintly  to  hail  her.) 

Hold  on!     What  ails  ye,  Moon? 
What  are  ye — ship,  or  moon,  or  moon-ship? — Ha! 

(He  utters  a  feeble  laughter.) 

Aha!     I  know  ye  now. — Where's  Peterkee? 
She  said  how  you'd  come  in,  when  we  were  King 
And  Queen. — I'm  King — but  where  is  Peterkee? 
Silver  spangles  on  her  spars — 
All  her  lanterns  shining  stars — 
Here's  our — ship — come — in — 

(Very  faintly:) 
Where's  Peterkee? 

(His  head  sinks  on  the  rocky  ledge,  and  he  falls  asleep. 
There,  where  he  lies  in  the  moonlight — appearing  on  the  edges 
of  the  foreground — dim  Fairy  Shapes  come  forth  and  peep  to- 
ward him,  while  their  soft,  child-pitched  voices  join  with  the 
deep-toned  Chorus  of  the  Men  of  the  Half  Moon,  golden  in  the 
background. 

There,  as  her  silver  spars  glide  slowly  away  in  the  sky, 
the  shapes  of  her  Shadow  Sailors  point  at  the  slumbering  form 
of  Rip  Van  Winkle — the  sound  of  their  Chorus  fading  ever 
farther  away,  like  the  rhythmic  croon  of  a  lullaby.) 

CHORUS 

The  King  of  the  Mountain  sleeps : 

Alone,  alone  let  him  lie! 
His  thunders  are  husht  in  the  starry  deeps: 
Storm,  go  by!  go  by! 
Never  shall  number 
Season  or  hour 
Shining  or  shower 
Trouble  his  slumber: 
Time,  go  by!  go  by! 


62  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

The  bride  for  the  bridegroom  waits: 

Alone,  alone  let  them  lie! 
This  lover  is  buried  beyond  all  dates: 
Love,  go  by!  go  by! 
Never  shall  tally 

Mark  where  he's  lying, 
Far  from  the  crying 
Cocks  in  the  valley. — 
World,  go  by!  go  by! 


Very  slowly,  the  Curtain  falls. 


End  of  Act  Second 


ACT  THIRD 


63 


ACT  III 

SCENE  FIRST 

To  a  brief  overture  of  mysterious  nature-sounds,  the 
curtain  rises ',  revealing  again  the  peak  of  the  mountain. 

It  is  dawn,  and  the  colors  of  sunrise  are  beginning  to 
tint  the  dispersing  mists,  through  which  one  sees  shadowly 
a  group  of  little  bird-like  Fairy  Creatures,  who  are  peering 
at  the  spot  where  Rip  fell  asleep. 

There  Rip  himself  is  still  lying,  but  now  his  form  is 
weather-beaten  and  half  naked,  and  his  tanned  features  are 
straggled  round  by  long-grown  gray  hair  and  beard.  Be- 
side him  lies  his  fowling-piece,  where  he  laid  it  down  before 
he  began  bowling — now  rusty  and  weather-worn  as  him- 
self. 

Peering  at  him  where  he  lies,  some  of  the  Fairy  Crea- 
tures circle  him  in  quaint  round-dance,  while  the  others 
sing.  During  their  singing — over  which  one  crow-like 
Fairy  presides  like  a  chorus  leader — the  brightening  sun- 
rise trills  with  the  fluting  of  birds. 

THE  FAIRY  CREATURES 
(Singing) 

By  the  Morning's  rosy  side 
One  lies  dead  who  never  died, 
One  lives  old  who  yet  is  young, 
Fast  asleep,  who  now  shall  wake 
To  a  fairy's  tinkle-tongue 
Calling  through  the  cloudy  thaw 
Of  the  lone  daybreak: 

"Caw!     Caw!     Caw!     Caw! 
Bobolink!     Bobolink! 
Wink  and  wake!     Wake  and  wink! 

Wake!    Wake!    Wake!" 
65 


66  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

(At  the  end  of  their  song,  Rip  stirs,  raising  one  hand, 
which  falls  back  on  the  earth. 

Seeing  him  move,  all  the  Fairy  Creatures  take  flight, 
disappearing  in  the  mist,  which  now  is  parting  with  vistas 
of  sun-reddened  sky. 

Slowly  Rip  stirs  again,  lifts  his  head,  then  half  his 
body  stiffly  to  a  sitting  posture,  from  which  he  stares  about 
him  and  mutters  aloud — at  first  feebly,  with  pauses  of  won- 
dering pantomime.} 

RIP 

Where's  Peterkee? — 

She's  silver  spangles  on  her  spars. — Halloa, 
Here's  mornin'  light! — I  must  'a'  took  a  nap: 
I  dreamed  the  moon  had  masts  and  I  was  a  King! 

(Catching  sight  of  his  long  gray  hair,  he  fingers  it,  bewildered.') 

Lord,  may  be  so!     I  reckon  kings  wear  beards, 
And  moss  grows  on  'em  when  they  sleep  out  nights, 
For  look  what's  growin'  here! 

(Trying  to  rise,  he  winces,  with  an  ejaculation  of  pain.) 

Ah-ya!     my  legs! 
I  creak  like  an  old  wellsweep! 

(Having  risen,  he  stoops  again  to  lift  the  fowling-piece 
beside  him.  It  falls  in  pieces,  leaving  only  the  rusty  barrel 
in  his  hand.) 

Lawkamercy! 
What  ails  the  gun? 

(Speaking  to  it,  with  familiar  affection) 

Old  feller,  you  and  me 
Was  overloaded,  and  blew  off  nine  times 
Last  night.     That's  all  what  ails  us.     We'll  go  home 
And  oil  up  for  the  weddin'. 

(Using  the  gun-barrel  as  a  staff,  he  begins  to  move  slowly 
off,  stiff-jointed  and  lame-backed,  like  an  old  man.) 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  67 

— Jericho! 
This  mountain  jag  will  last  me  till  Judgment-morn! — 

(Pausing,  he  calls:) 
Ho,  Peterkee! — Where  are  you? — Peterkee! 

(In  reply,  like  a  distant  echo,  a  man's  voice — Nicholas 
Fedder's — is  heard  calling  faintly: — "Peterkee!" 

Descending  the  rocky  path,  Rip's  ancient  figure  dis- 
appears in  the  mists  of  sunrise.)* 


*The  scene  changes  in  misty  dimness.     The  curtain  does  not  fall. 


SCENE  SECOND 

The  mists  grow  denser,  then — after  a  moment  of  semi- 
obscurity — part  again,  discovering  the  outlines  of  a  ruined 
chimney  and  fireplace,  surrounded  by  the  crumbled  re- 
mains of  Rip's  hut.  Through  its  broken  floor  and  vine- 
grown  walls,  trees,  bushes  and  weeds  are  growing  in  tangled 
masses. 

Here,  pushing  through  the  vines  and  leafage,  a  Young 
Woman  enters.  Her  face  has  a  child-like  freshness;  she 
is  dressed  in  bridal  clothes;  she  glances  back,  listening,  as 
the  Man's  Voice  calls  again,  distantly: 

THE  VOICE 
(Of  Nicholas  Vedder) 

Where  are  you? — Peterkee! 


THE  YOUNG  WOMAN 
(Peterkee) 

My  father  calls, 
But  I  will  not  answer  yet. 

(Gazing  about  her) 

Poor  little  house! 

How  you  are  fallen  in  ruin,  since  dear  Rip 
Left  us,  so  long  ago!     Where  is  the  flask — 
The  Magic  Flask — I  left  in  your  secret  care? 

(Searching  about,  she  reaches  in  a  moss-grown  niche  of 
the  chimney  and  draws  forth  the  flask,  with  a  glad  cry) 

Ah,  here! — 't  is  here! 

68 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  69 

(Endearingly,  she  speaks  to  it,  as  to  a  living  thing:) 
Long,  long  ago,  O  darling  flask, 
I  hid  you  safely 

Here  where  no  mortal  eye  or  hand 
Could  spy  you  out,  or  unseal  your  magic  spell; 
Long,  long  ago,  I  brought  you  home 
And  here  I  waited 

For  him — him  who  wandered  far  away 
And  will  return  no  more. 

0  darling  flask,  forgive  me  what  I  dared: 

Old  Hendrick  Hudson  told  me  first  your  secret, 
So  from  your  crystal  mouth  I  drank,  and  tasted 
Your  fiery  waters  of  immortal  youth. 

Now,  now,  though  years  and  years  go  by, 
They  fall  so  lightly 

1  feel  no  weight  of  time  or  change, 

But  only  how  full  is  my  heart  of  flowering  love; 

So,  darling  flask,  I  pray  to  you, 

If  still  he  lives, 

Let  him — him  who  wandered  far  away 

Come  to  his  home  once  more! 

(As  these  words  of  Peterkee  are  ceasing,  the  tangled  vines 
in  the  background  are  parted  by  a  hand  from  behind  and  the 
gray-bearded  face  of  Rip  peers  forth,  turning  old,  weather- 
scarred  features  toward  the  girlish  form  of  Peterkee. 

Gazing  from  her  to  his  ruined  hearth,  he  speaks,  hesitant.) 

RIP 
Is  this  the  home  of  Rip  Van  Winkle? 

PETERKEE 
(Starting  back,  with  a  cry) 

Oh! 

(Concealing  the  flask  in  her  dress,  she  stares  at  him,  half 
frightened) 

Are  you  a  fairy  goblin,  or  a  man? 


70  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

RIP 

(With  a  crackling  laughter) 

Aha!     Am  I  a  fairy  goblin — me! 
Mayhap  I  am,  young  lady.     If  you'd  asked  me 
Last  night,  I  might  'a'  told  ye,  but  to-day 
I'm  wondering. 

PETERKEE 
What  are  you  wondering? 

RIP 

(Comes  forward,  rubbing  his  eyes) 

Whether  I  be  woke  up  yet  anyhow, 

And  whether  this  be  the  home  of  Rip  Van  Winkle. 

PETERKEE 

Here  used  to  be  his  home.     The  walls,  you  see, 
Are  all  in  ruin  now. 

RIP 

Aye,  so  it  looks. 

Lord,  what  a  storm  there  must  'a'  been  last  night! 
I  reckon  old  Hendrick's  party  up  aloft 
Knocked  things  down  here  to  thunder  with  their  bowling. 

PETERKEE 

Ah,  Hendrick  Hudson!     Do  you  know  him,  sir? 
And  have  you  heard  his  party  bowling? 

RIP 

Havel! 

You  ought  to  watch  me  bowl,  after  I've  drunk 
Eight  drinks !    Not  nine! — Nay,  nine's  too  many  for  me. 
One  drink  too  many  turns  folks  mighty  queer. 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  71 

PETERKEE 
{Drawing  back  a  little,  with  awe) 

Oh,  then,  you  must  be  one  of  Hendrick's  crew! 
I  never  saw  a  real  ghost  in  the  daylight 
Before. — But  you  don't  carry  a  keg. 

RIP 

Young  lady, 

I  might  look  like  a  land-crab,  but  I'd  thank  ye 
If  you'd  not  take  me  for  a  Spittin'  Devil: 
I'm  not  that  kind. 

PETERKEE 

How  strange — how  strange  you  sound! 
Your  voice  is  like  a  dream  of  long  ago, 
An  echo  on  the  mountains  in  the  twilight, 
Where  folk  of  faerie  gather  at  their  play. 

RIP 

How  strange  you  sound,  my  dear! 

Your  voice  is  like  a  birdsong  in  the  forest 

Between  the  dewfall  and  the  daybreak,  somewhere — 

RIP  AND  PETERKEE 
(Together) 

Ah,  somewhere  far  away! 

PETERKEE 

Yes,  you  must  be  a  ghost,  or  a  fairy  goblin, 
And  once  I  must  have  met  you  on  the  mountain. 

RIP 

Sure,  you  must  be  some  kin  of  Peterkee, 

Or  may  be  just  a  dream  of  her  I'm  dreaming. 


72  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 
Nay,  I  am  not  a  dream:  I'm  Peterkee. 

RIP 
You — Peterkee ! 

(Through  the  vines  and  bushes,  Nicholas  Vcdder  enters. 
He  is  grown  old  and  gray,  and  he  goes  toward  Peterkee, 
speaking  to  her  in  anger.} 

NICHOLAS 

Come  here!     At  last  I've  found  ye! 
How  dared  you  run  away? 

PETERKEE 

I'm  coming. 

NICHOLAS 

Haste,  then! 

'T  is  almost  sundown,  and  the  wedding  guests 
Are  waiting. 

RIP 

Oh,  the  wedding!     Take  your  time,  then: 
I  reckon  there'll  be  no  wedding  without  me, 
And  I'll  be  there  at  sundown. 

NICHOLAS 
(Glancing  sternly  at  Rip) 

Who  the  devil 
Is  this? 

PETERKEE 
An  old,  poor  stranger. 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  73 

RIP 

Halloa,  Nick! 

I  see!     I  see!     You've  powdered  up  your  hair 
And  Peterkee  has  fancy-dressed  herself 
To  be  at  my  wedding. 

NICHOLAS 
(Staring) 

Yours ! 

RIP 

You'll  both  be  welcome. 
I'm  not  trimmed  up  myself,  but  I'll  be  on  time. 

PETERKEE 

(To  Nicholas ,  inter  cedingly,  as  he  makes  an  angry  ges- 
ture toward  Rip.} 

Father,  't  is  not  a  mortal  like  ourselves — 

NICHOLAS 

Nay,  't  is  a  crazy  loon!     Come  now!     Katrina 
Is  there  already,  and  the  bridegroom  waits. 

(Seizing  Peterkee  by  the  hand,  Nicholas  hurries  her  away.) 

RIP 

(Calls  after  them) 

Hold  on,  there!     /'m  the  bridegroom! 

NICHOLAS 
(With  a  burst  of  harsh  laughter) 

Ha!    Ha!    Ha! 


74  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 
(Pausing,  with  a  sudden  look  of  bewildered  doubt) 

Ah,  me!     I  wonder:     Somewhere  far  away — 


Make  haste! 


NICHOLAS 

(Sternly ',  pulling  her  off) 


(They  disappear  through  the  vines.  Rip  reaches  after 
them,  calling:) 

RIP 

O  Peterkee!     Wait, — Peterkee! 
(Faintly  he  sinks  down  beside  the  chimney  ruins.} 

Heigh-me!     Which  side  o'  the  world  did  I  wake  up 

This  morning?     What's  o'clock  inside  my  head? — 

Was  yonder  truly  my  little  Peterkee, 

And  did  she  speak  me  right?     Am  I  the  ghost 

Of  a  Half  Moon  sailor  tumbled  overboard, 

Or  am  I  Rip  Van  Winkle?     If  I  be  neither, 

What  kind  of  fish,  or  fowl,  or  fairy  am  I  ? — 

Heigh-me!     Where  is  my  home?     Is  this  the  chimney 

Where  Peterkee  hung  up  my  coat  to  dry? 

Is  here  the  hearth  where  I  would  bring  my  bride? — 

My  bride!    Ah-  ha-  ha! 

(He  laughs — an  old,  feeble  laughter,  which  dies  away,  as 
the  nature-sounds  of  approaching  twilight  begin  their  orches- 
tral thrumming  and  pipings  of  song. 

Listening,  Rip  sits  up  and  calls  to  them:) 

I  hear  ye,  fairy  neighbors! 
Did  Katy  wait,  or  didn't  she  wait,  for  me? 

A  FAIRY  VOICE 

(Sings) 
Katydid! 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  75 

ANOTHER 
(Answers) 

Katy  didn't! 

RIP 

(Rising,  with  painful  stiffness} 

Nay,  then,  I'll  go  and  see.     'T  will  soon  be  sundown 
And  I  must  find  a  home,  to  fetch  my  bride  to. 

(The  low,  gentle  music  of  nature  around  him  continues. 
Listening  again.  Rip  cries,  with  a  forlorn  gesture:) 

O  neighbor  voices!     You,  my  old  friends  of  twilight! 
Answer  me: — Where  is  Rip  Van  Winkle's  home? 

(From  far  in  the  forest,  a  mysterious  Voice  answers — 
in  minor  key  and  mournful  rhythm — as  the  scene  is  blotted 
in  darkness:} 

THE  VOICE 
Whip  poor  Will !     Whip  poor  Will  !* 


The  curtain  does  not  fall. 


SCENE  THIRD 

As  the  lonely  forest  cry  of  the  Whippoorwill  dies  away, 
the  darkness  begins  to  be  filled  with  contrasted  sounds  of 
human  gaiety  and  hubbub,  taking  on  the  rhythm  of  a  lively 
dance-tune,  as  returning  light  reveals  the  Scene  of  Act 
First,  at  the  hour  of  approaching  sunset. 

The  Scene  itself  is  altered  somewhat  by  the  lapse  of 
time:  the  church  and  its  porch  are  partly  overgrown  with 
ivy;  the  tree  which  shades  the  Inn  is  visibly  larger;  over 
the  door  of  the  Inn  floats  a  flag,  with  thirteen  stars,  and  a 
new  swinging  sign — painted  with  a  crude  portrait  of  an 
officer  in  uniform — shows  the  lettered  inscription: 

"THE  GENERAL  WASHINGTON  INN" 

The  place,  moreover,  has  none  of  the  drowsy  quietude 
of  the  First  Act,  but  bustles  with  a  new  energy.  People  in 
garments  of  an  altered  fashion  are  gathered  together: 
some,  in  gossipy  pantomime,  are  standing  by  the  church 
porch;  others,  near  the  Inn,  are  watching  a  group  of 
Wedding  Guests,  who  are  dancing — to  the  music  of  fiddling 
— about  the  bridegroom,  Hans  Van  Bummel,  a  sort  of 
second  edition  of  his  brother  Jan.  Hans — blindfolded  in 
their  midst — is  being  spun  round  and  put  through  various 
motions  by  the  Dancers,  as  they  and  the  Onlookers  sing  in 
chorus,  clapping  their  hands  at  three  intervals. 

After  the  first  interval,  the  Best  Man  is  thrust — also 
blindfolded — into  the  circle;  after  the  second,  both  are  put 
through  pantomime  indicated  by  the  words  of  their  song, 
then — unblindfolded — are  thrust  out  of  the  circle,  amid 
laughing  shouts,  after  the  final  refrain. 

76 


RIP  7 AN  WINKLE  77 

THE  WEDDING  GUESTS 
(Singing  in  chorus) 

The  Bride-groom, 
The  Bride-groom, 
The  Bridegroom  he's  the  read-i-est  man: 

Clap  once,  and  round  he  goes! 
The  Best-Man, 
The  Best-Man, 
The  Best-Man  he's  the  stead-i-est  man: 

Clap  once, 

Clap  twice — 

Round  he  goes,  and  round  he  goes! 
Now  they  kneel,  and  now  they  rise, 
Now  they  stare  to-ward  the  skies, 
Now  they  ope  their  blinded  eyes: 

Clap  once, 

Clap  twice, 

Clap  thrice — and  out  they  go! 

(During  the  dance,  Katrina  Vedder  and  Jan  Van 
Bummel  have  come  out  of  the  Inn. 

Katrina.,  now  stout  and  matronly,  Jan,  grown  even 
huger  in  his  fat  bulk,  are  accompanied  by  a  procession  of 
their  offspring  of  various  ages,  sizes  and  sexes — all  in  their 
best  clothes — some  of  whom  join  in  the  last  of  the  singing 
and  the  laughter. 

Observing  this,  Katrina  screams  at  them  shrilly, 
slapping  the  three  youngest  in  succession.) 

KATRINA 

There's  once,  and  twice,  and  thrice — for  you! 
Shut  up  your  mouths !     Behave  yourselves ! 

JAN 

O,  Ka-  Ka-  Katy,  don't  be  cross! 

You'll  brea-  brea-  break  our  kiddies'  hearts. 


78  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

KATRINA 

A  dozen  brats  in  twenty  years 
Would  break  the  heart  of  any  mother! 

DERRICK  VAN  BUMMEL 

(Gray  and  portly,  approaches  and  speaks  to  her,  pompously) 

Yea,  daughter-in-law:     Insubordination 
Must  be  corrected.     You  do  well 
To  show  Jan's  brother  there  example 
How  Hans  must  teach  his  bride  to  do 
In  future. 

KATRINA 

So!     Where  is  Hans'  bride — 
His  Peterkee?     These  two  score  years 
She's  never  yet  grown  up,  like  others, 
But  aye  she's  been  a  stubborn  child 
Would  marry  no  man  till  this  day — 
And  now  she's  run  and  hid  herself! 

JAN 

Nay,  nay,  she's  ca-  ca-  coming  now. 
Her  father's  found  her. 

(As  Jan  speaks,  Nicholas  Vedder  enters,  left,  with 
Peterkee,  from  round  the  Inn.} 

DERRICK 

(Exclaiming) 

Peterkee! 
She's  here!     Run,  Hans,  and  greet  your  bride. 

(Hans  hurries  clumsily  toward  Peterkee,  who  evades  his 
stupid  attempts  at  gallantry  and  takes  refuge  near  Katrina, 
whom  Hans  is  wary  of  approaching.) 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  79 

PETERKEE 
(To  Katrina) 

Good-evening,  sister! 

KATRINA 

Kiss  your  man, 

Not  me!     He's  got  the  property; 
And  God  knows  you  have  kept  him  waiting 
Long  time  enough. 

NICHOLAS 

Nay,  now,  Katrina! 
Your  sister  has  come  back  in  time. — 
You  waited  for  a  bridegroom  once 
Who  never  came. 

KATRINA 

I  got  a  worse  one! 

I'd  rather  have  one  dead  and  gone 
These  twenty  years — like  Rip  Van  Winkle. 

DERRICK 

(Beckoning  Peterkee,  who  draws  back,  reluctant  and  shyly 
miserable.) 

Come,  Peterkee:  the  Parson's  ready; 
The  guests  are  going  to  the  church,  now, 
And  Hans,  your  man,  is  waiting. 

(A  discordant  noise  and  hubbub  bursts  from  beyond  the 
Inn,  mingled  with  shrill  voices  shouting: 
"Rag-man!     Tatter-tags!") 

JAN 

(Running  to  look) 

Hark! 
Hark,  yonder,  how  the  dogs  are  barking! 


80  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

NICHOLAS 
What  are  those  children  screaming  for? 


DERRICK 

(Joining  Jan) 

They've  found  some  looney  from  the  poor-house. 

(Round  the  Inn,  now,  at  back  left,  a  crowd  of  children 
enter,  hooting,  pointing,  and  throwing  chaff  at  an  outlandish 
Figure  in  their  midst — the  old,  tattered,  graybeard  form  of 
Rip  Van  Winkle,  to  whom  they  have  tied  various  rattling 
pans  and  odd  litter — mocking  him  with  antics,  while  they 
shout  in  shrill  chorus:) 

THE  CHILDREN 

Tatter-taggle- twitch ! 
Dump  him  in  the  ditch! 

Lodge  him  with  a  moor-mouse, 

Board  him  in  a  bag  o'  stuffin', — 

Ragamuffin!     ragamuffin! — 

Pack  him  to  the  poor-house! 
Witch!    Witch!    Witch! 


RIP 

(Stilling  them  by  a  strange,  pathetic  gesture) 

Hold,  there — you  youngsters!     Wait  a  moment,  quiet !- 
Don't  even  you  little  fellers  know  me  now? 


THE  CHILDREN 
(Mocking  him,  but  less  loudly) 

Rag-man!     Witch! 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  81 

PETERKEE 

(Peering,  with  eager  trepidation) 
Ah,  't  is  the  fairy  stranger! 

NICHOLAS 
(Pulling  her  back,  places  her  behind  him  in  the  crowd) 

Here!     Stand  back! 

RIP 

(Still  gazing  at  the  Children,  who  become  quieted  and 
awestruck  by  his  tone  and  gesture} 

Young  folks,  is  this  your  fun  ? — Where  are  your  fishpoles  ? 
Who  learns  ye  how  to  fly  your  kites?     Who  calls  ye 
From  school,  when  bobolinks  are  in  the  meadow, 
To  play  at  hookie  all  a  summer's  morning? 

(The  Children  gape  at  him.     After  a  pause,  one  of  them 
answers,  in  wonder:) 

THE  CHILD 
Nobody. 

RIP 

(With  a  forlorn  cry) 
Ah! 

(Turning,  with  appealing  eyes,  to  the  gathered  people) 
Does  nobody  here  know  Rip  Van  Winkle? 

NICHOLAS 

What, 

Old  loon!     Are  you  still  gabbling  moonshine? — Pack! 
Be  off!     Here  is  no  time  and  place  for  beggars. 
You  stop  a  wedding. 

RIP 

Nay,  I  stop  no  wedding, 

Old  Nick,  and  here's  my  time  and  place:  for  now 
Is  sundown,  and  I'm  come,  just  like  I  promised, 
To  get  my  bride. — Where  is  she? 


82  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

THE  PEOPLE 

(With  laughing  shout} 

Ho,  ho,  ho! 
His  bride! 

RIP 

(Defiantly — his  eyes  flashing,  with  strange  quiet) 

Yea,  I  am  the  bridegroom! 

KATRINA 
(Stepping  forward,  stares  at  him  fiercely) 

Can  the  Devil 

Come  back  from  Brimstone,  to  crack  jokes  with  Chris- 
tians 
At  our  church  door? 

RIP 

Aye,  Katy,  I  would  know  ye 

At  any  church  door — and  him,  Old  Nick,  your  father — 
By  your  sweet  wit  and  welcome. — But  I  reckon, 
If  yonder  be  Jan,  the  fairies  they  were  right — 
And  Katy  she  didn't ! 

NICHOLAS 
(Thundering  at  Rip) 

Silence,  vagabond! 
(Shaking  his  staff  at  him) 
Begone !     Here,  neighbors !     Pack  this  madman  off ! 

(Led  by  Nicholas,  the  people  crowd  forward  and  begin  to 
drive  Rip  off,  jostling  and  striking  him.) 

THE  PEOPLE 
Away  with  him!     Away  with  him! 

(In  the  turmoil  Rip  is  struck  down.) 


RIP  VAN  WINKLE  83 

PETERKEE 
(Hastening  to  his  help,  turns  to  the  crowd  appealingly) 

Nay,  friends, 
Grant  me  a  wedding  wish! 

THE  PEOPLE 
(Drawing  back  from  Rip) 

Hark  to  the  bride! 

(With  Peter  kee's  help,  Rip  staggers  to  his  feet,  half  dazed 
by  his  fall.} 

PETERKEE 

All  outcasts  may  ask  alms  on  wedding  days: 
This  one  is  old  and  ill. — Before  he  goes, 
For  alms  I  give  him  here  this  little  flask. — 
See! 

(She  holds  up  the  Magic  Flask) 
Father,  may  he  drink  and  restore  himself? 

NICHOLAS 
Aye,  let  him  drink  a  health  to  the  bride  and  groom! 

(He  laughs  to  the  crowd,  who  laugh  back) 
Ha,  ha! 

THE  PEOPLE 
Ha,  ha!    A  health  to  the  bride  and  groom! 

PETERKEE 
(Giving  the  flask  to  Rip,  speaks  low,  close  to  his  ear) 

Drink!     'T  is  the  Magic  Flask. 


84  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

RIP 

(Holding  up  the  flask,  looks — with  an  elvish  twinkle — 
from  Peterkee  to  Nicholas  and  the  Crowd) 

Old  Nick,  and  neighbors! 
Since  I  may  never  see  you  any  more, 
So  long  to  ye! — Here's  luck  to  the  groom  and  bride! 

(Putting  the  flask  to  his  lips,  he  drinks. 

Instantly,  with  flash  of  fire  and  crackling  thunder,  the 
entire  scene  is  plunged  into  darkness,  through  which — hung 
deep  in  the  sky — a  little,  glowing  half-moon  shines  far  off, 
while  the  low-rumbling  thunder  preludes  a  ghostly  singing  of 
deep  Voices,  that — be  ginning  faintly — increase  ever  the  volume 
of  their  chorus.) 

THE  GHOSTLY  CHORUS 

The  bride  for  the  bridegroom  waits: 

Alone  no  more  let  them  lie! 
The  powers  of  wonder  have  wove  their  fates : 
World,  go  by!     go  by! 
Never  shall  sorrow 
Rancor  or  raging, 
Envy  or  aging, 
Trouble  their  morrow. — 
Time,  go  by!    go  by! 

(With  the  last  of  this  chorus,  a  mysterious  returning 
light  reveals  Rip  no  longer  white-bearded  and  old,  but 
waggish  and  young  again,  as  before  his  mountain  sleep. 

Laughing,  he  looks  round  at  the  astounded  and 
terror-struck  Dutch  folk — Nicholas,  Derrick,  Katrina, 
Jan,  and  their  row  of  progeny — who,  rigid  and  aghast, 
tumble  over  like  rows  of  ninepins,  as  the  Voice  of  Hendrick 
Hudson  is  heard  calling.) 

THE  VOICE  OF  HENDRICK 
A  strike!    A  strike  for  Rip  and  Peterkee! 


RIP  FAN  WINKLE  85 

(And  now,  the  windows  of  the  church  and  the  porch 
glow  with  golden  light;  the  quivering  thunder  of  an  organ, 
sounding  within,  begins  mysteriously  to  peal,  and  out 
from  the  porch,  in  a  blaze  of  miraculous  color,  troop  forth 
fantastic  forms  of  the  old  Dutch  sailors — Hendrick  Hud- 
son  and  his  Crew.  Over  their  sailors'  garb  they  wear 
bright-dyed  wedding  robes,  and  come  marching  in  strange 
ceremonial. 

In  the  fairy  light  all  other  persons  have  disappeared, 
except  the  Children — who  hover,  awestruck,  on  the  dim 
verges  of  the  scene — and,  at  the  centre,  Rip  and  Peterkee, 
who  are  joined  by  the  towering  form  of  Hendrick  Hudson, 
followed  by  Dirck.) 

HENDRICK 

Where  is  the  bride  of  the  King  of  the  Mountain? 

ALL  THE  CREW 
(Pointing  at  Peterkee} 

Yonder! — Yonder  she  stands! 

HENDRICK 
Where  is  the  bride's  Best  Man  of  the  Mountain  ? 

DIRCK 

(Steps  forward,  grinning) 

Here,  Sir!    Here,  Sir,  I  stands! 

HENDRICK 

Where  is  the  Honey-Moon  Ring  of  the  Half  Moon? 

RIP 

( Taking  a  gold  ring  from  Dirck,  who  hands  it) 

Peterkee!     Peterkee!     Come  and  wear  it! 


86  RIP  FAN  WINKLE 

PETERKEE 
(Going  to  him  joyously) 

Rip!    Now  we're  King  and  Queen! 

(The  organ  peals  again. 

Through  the  church  porch  the  miraculous  light  streams 
forth.  In  its  radiance,  Rip  holds  up  the  ring  to  the  upturned 
gaze  of  Peterkee,  and  leads  her,  in  marching  processional  of 
the  Crew,  Hendrick,  Dirck,  and  the  Children,  toward  the  church 
— a  march  half  fairy-dance  in  its  blithe  rhythm — while  all  of 
them  singy  in  chorus:} 

ALL 

Who  shall  wear  the  Half  Moon  ring? 

The  one  who  climbs,  who  climbs  in  the  clouds! 
The  one  who  hears  the  night-bird  sing, 

And  sees  the  Moon-Ship  cast  her  shrouds: 
For  it's  hoy,  ahoy,  ahoy,  ahoy! 
The  Half  Moon  Ship  is  the  Ship  of  Joy 

As  she  follows  the  Honey-Moon  over  and  under, 
And  their  fairy  mates  are  Queen  and  King, 
For  the  fairy  life  is  a-wayfaring, 

And  the  home  of  the  heart  is  wonder. 


THE  END 


Also  by  Percy  MacKaye: 

WASHINGTON 

THE  MAN  WHO  MADE  US 

A  Ballad  Play 

"Mr.  MacKaye  has  given  us  in  this  work  a  new  form  for  the 
theatre,  for  which  we  must  be  grateful;  but  beyond  and  away  above 
the  form  in  importance  stands  the  play  itself.  Here  we  have  some- 
thing worthy  of  our  country." — New  York  Tribune. 

"By  a  striking  invention,  the  author  is  able  to  carry  his  story 
along  without  halting,  and  at  times  to  fuse  both  past  and  present." 

— New  York  Sun. 

"In  intent  and  spirit  it  is  wholly  admirable,  sturdily  American, 
broad-minded,  fervid  in  maintaining  the  principles  of  liberty  and 
brotherhood  for  mankind." — The  Nation. 

"Mr.  MacKaye  has  conceived  a  work  that  upon  historical  back- 
ground shows  the  trend  of  the  momentous  happenings  of  today  and 
gives  a  glimpse  of  the  import  of  the  future." — New  York  Telegraph. 

Of  Alexander  Hamilton,  as  depicted  in  Mr.  MacKaye's  play 
"Washington,"  Dr.  Allan  McLane  Hamilton,  his  grandson,  writes 
in  a  letter  to  the  author:  "No  one  has  ever  grasped  Hamilton's 
character  as  have  you." 

"As  acted  (in  French  translation)  by  Pierre  de  Lanux  at  the 
Theatre  du  Vieux  Colombier,  New  York,  Jacques  Copeau  and  Percy 
MacKaye  have  done  the  thrilling  job  of  giving  us  a  new  Washington, 
a  magnetic,  passionate,  resourceful,  lovable  human  being." — Anne 
Herendeen,  in  Everybody's  Magazine. 

"Why  has  George  Washington  never  been  'starred'  on  the  Ameri- 
can stage?  The  most  impressive  and  dramatic  figure  of  our  history, 
the  First  Citizen  has  never  authoritatively  had  the  boards  till  now  in 
the  ballad  play  of  Percy  MacKaye." — Samuel  Hopkins  Adams,  in 
Collier's  Weekly.  

With  six  scene  designs  by  ROBERT  EDMUND  JONES 
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